Learning About Life
by Nuitaie
Summary: Harry always knew that Umbridge was trouble, but he never knew that she could destroy the world. Now they have to read a book to get their life back. At least it isn't his life that's getting read. Rahkesh, on the other hand, really hopes that none of his thoughts are offensive to Namach. A reading of Miranda Flairgold's A Second Chance at Life Trilogy. Adopted from shadowkass101.
1. Prologue

**The following is the original author's note by shadowkass101.**

 ** _AN: Reading of Miranda Flairgold's A Second Chance at Life, as Miranda states 'If you want to use any of my ideas in your fics you may, just please note where the idea comes from.' However I am to take this literally and use the actual story in a 'reading of' set-up._**

 ** _Sadly it looks like Miranda is no longer updating the series she has created masterfully. And due to it being my favourite fiction on this site I thought I might honour it by applying it as a 'what if' X-over reading._**

 ** _Special note to Crossoverpairinglover for the concept of the story I hope you don't mind but the idea is amazing and I had to write one for this._**

 ** _All uses of characters belong to either Miranda Flairgold or JK nothing in this story is owned by myself apart from some O/C's that direct._**

 ** _Please note as well that while I am using spell checkers and all that, I am Dyslexic and without a Beta reader, for that you have my apologises for any bad grammar or spelling._**

 **End note**

 **Do note that this fanfiction will be removed if Miranda Flairfold return from her hiatus (and no one can convince me otherwise) and disapproves.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and the ASCaL Trilogy belongs to Miranda Flairgold. And this plot belongs to shadowkass101.**

 **Since it's just before Christmas, the attack with Arthur and Nagini didn't happen.**

 **Chapter 0.5 – A Toad, a Titan, and a Vampire Walk Into the Great Hall**

Christmas was fast approaching the cold wind blasted castle of Hogwarts. Soon, children and adults would embark on their trips back home on the comfy—and most importantly—warm Hogwarts express. Many of the children were looking forward to this Christmas in particular; they thanked the stars for a chance to escape from She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. From whom, you might ask. Well, that's simple, really; it can only be the giant pink toad in disguise, over bloated and with the fashion sense of a blind leprechaun drunk on firewhisky.

That wasn't the worst of it, though. No, this toad had a name, a name that, unfortunately, had power within the wizarding world. Dolores Umbridge, Senior Member of the Ministry of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, and to some, a poor excuse of humanity.

The night before term ended found Professor Umbridge inside her shockingly pink office, sitting on a high-backed, hot pink, plush chair. On her lap was a cat one would assume was dyed pink, with a look of 'End it now! Please!' plastered on its face.

"Oh! Mrs. Fluttersworth! We have that disgusting half-blood now!" She stated to her cat in a deep butch accent. "That little attention seeking brat's secrets will all be mine! But can I?" She pondered.

She looked at her fireplace, wondering if there were any laws against this sort of thing. Yet as hard as she wracked her tiny brain, she could not recall any laws against this unheard-of magic. Not that it really mattered; she was sure that the Minister would give permission for its casting anyway if she simply asked. He did, after all, give his consent for the Blood Quills. What was the use in being Minister if you couldn't get rid of a few pesky laws? She stood up, placed Mrs. Fluttersworth onto her desk, and walked to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder as she went.

Umbridge threw some floo powder into her fire, "Office of the Minister for Magic." She called out, switching back to her unnaturally high voice. She waited for perhaps half a minute before a face appeared.

"Ah, Madam Umbridge! I'm afraid I'm rather busy at the moment. You see, Amelia is currently in my office with a few Daily Prophet reporters in regards to your newly acquired position." Minister Fudge informed her.

"Oh, but Minister, this is a perfect time then! I have here a way that we can use to expose all of that Potter boy's lies in a way that not even he can talk his way out of!" Umbridge announced, grinning like, well, a cat (but that's only because toads don't grin)."The fact that Madam Bones is with you is wonderful news! I have found a way to create a book that is 100% accurate regarding a selected person's life. Every thought, action and little secret all written down neat and tidy." By this point, Umbridge was practically dancing with joy! Oh, how she loved it when things worked out.

Minister Fudge himself looked like a child on his very first Christmas, "Are you certain?" He asked, "Truly, an account of all his actions?" He turned away from the fire and Umbridge heard him call to the others in his office "Lady, gentlemen, there are urgent happenings at Hogwarts that you might be interested in. Please follow me through the Floo."

At this statement, Umbridge backed away from her fireplace as the forms of Minister Fudge, Madam Bones and two reporters from the Daily Prophet appeared.

"Ah, Madam Umbridge. Please explain this wonderful way you have found of showing the public that we, at the Ministry, value the truth." Minister Fudge all but demanded as he took a seat at Umbridge's desk.

"Of course, Minister! I have been looking through some of the past Defence Professors' books that have been left in the office, simply to see how low the level of teaching at Hogwarts has fallen. When reading one of the older, more battered books, I found this nifty spell that would allow for one person's life to be written into a book. It must be read out within one week of its creation and within close proximity of the subject. No secrets can be hidden and the subject's very thoughts are transcribed for us to read!" A gleeful Umbridge explained. "Furthermore, due to the subject in question having a high level of popularity and importance to our society—and being a half-blood—our Minister here can allow for us to perform such a spell on the individual."

"You mean to tell me then," Madam Bones demanded, "That the 'subject' in question would be one Harry Potter? A person that Professor Dumbledore would protect with all his power?"

Madam Umbridge looked worried for a moment before Minister Fudge tried to placate her, "Ah, Madam Bones, we need not worry about that. As Minister, I can allow this spell to be cast. After reading over it, we can do it before Dumbledore can attempt to stop us. Now, as your Minister, I must demand that you act within your official capacity under my directions until after the reading is complete."

Madam Bones looked furious—no, she looked downright _murderous_. "I will see to it that the rights of people are protected, Minister. I will, in accordance of your will, do this, but then I will resign. I cannot and will not be part of a Ministry that condones such an act!"

"Hem hem, alright Madam. We will take your resignation request _after_ this has been done." Madam Umbridge stated in a sickly sweet tone of voice. "For now, however, please follow us and help escort our friends from the Daily Prophet to the Great Hall."

~o0o~

"ATTENTION! ALL STUDENTS AND PROFESSORS ARE TO REPORT TO THE GREAT HALL FOR AN END OF TERM ANOUNCEMENT. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY, THOSE WHO DO NOT ATTEND WILL BE PENALIZED WITH 100 HOUSE POINTS AND A WEEK OF DETENTIONS FOR EACH HOUR THAT THEY WILL BE MISSING. YOU HAVE UNTIL 10 PM TO BE SEATED AND SILENT."

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry abruptly sat up in his seat near the fire. His hand made a splash as he jolted up from the wonderfully soothing Murtlap Essence that Hermione had made for him.

"I wonder what that miserable old toad wants now." He asked his friends.

"No idea, mate, but we better get there fast;" said a groggy Ron, "There might be more food." Personally, Harry really didn't think so, but he couldn't think of any plausible explanations of his own, so he went along with it.

"Haven't you just eaten? You can't still be hungry." Questioned Hermione.

"Oh, I'm not hungry, but I won't say no to more!" Ron grinned.

With that said, the trio joined the rest of their House on the way to the Great Hall for what they were sure was a horrible announcement.

 _'I have a really bad feeling about this.'_

~o0o~

As the students filed into the Great Hall, the staff was already sitting at the head table–minus Professor Umbridge, of course.

Bathsheba Babbling, the Ancient Runes Professor, leaned across to Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies Professor, "Well, I wonder what this is about; no more changes to our school, I hope." She said. "There really isn't much more about Hogwarts that can be changed other than what already has," Babbling paused and amended her statement, "Well, other than if she wants to start redecorating. I swear, next time she 'hem hem's' me, I'm going to draw a runic circle under her desk in the Defence classroom that makes her chair _croak_ when she sits down."

Professor Burbage giggled softly into her glass of orange juice—she simply couldn't stand pumpkin juice. "Now, now, Bathsheba," she chided gently, "She might hear you. We never know when she might hop in."

As both ladies giggled to each other, Professor McGonagall looked towards Dumbledore with worry in her eyes, "You don't think she will try to gain more control over the school, do you Albus?"

Dumbledore turned his head to face her, "Not yet my dear; I understand that she has brought guests."

Over at the Gryffindor table, Harry was getting worried. _'What does the old cow wants with us now? She can't do much more, can she?'_ He thought, looking at his right hand with a grimace. _Yes,_ a voice in his head said, _she can do much, much more. After all, it's not like any of the professors stopped her from doing what she has so far._

"Cheer up, mate! You look exactly like Ginny did when she first found out that Santa Claus isn't real." Ron stated.

Ginny looked over at Ron with a scowl and threw a bat-bogey hex at him. "Arse! It was your fault I found out when I was 4!" Ron, however, showed his Keeper's reflexes born from playing a lot of Quidditch at home and _caught_ the hex in his hand, closing his fist around it.

"RON! What did you do? How did you do that? That shouldn't be possible!" Hermione exclaimed frantically, looking as if she was ready to dash off to the library at any moment, and the only thing keeping her in her seat was the potential point loss and detentions.

"I..." Ron stopped, looked at his hand, which he was struggling to hold closed. Turning white with worry, he opened it with trepidation. "A BAT! I HAVE A BAT GROWING ON MY HAND!" He waved said hand over his head, trying to shake it off, oblivious to the laughter of the rest of the table.

"Oh, of course! The hex targets the bogeys and grows _from_ them" Hermione deducted, then she realized something, "RON! Did you _pick_ your nose? You must have. Ugh, your disgusting sometimes!"

"I don't care! JUST GET IT OFF!" Ron exclaimed, and gave an almighty wave over his head. The bat came free and flew off, but not under its own power.

"ARGHHH!" BANG!

The Great Hall went deadly silent as Professor Severus Snape slowly rose to his feet, blood pouring from one nostril and a bat trying to crawl up the other. With one hand, he yanked the bat free and looked at it. The bat shrieked and fainted from the power of his glare.

"Mr. Weasley," he started, walking slowly towards the Gryffindor table, "Congratulations! The house elves are sure to thank you for kindly volunteering to scrub their chamber pot's until they say they are clean." He turned and stalked up to his place back at the head table. "Oh, and Mr Weasley? I'm going to treat them tonight to _vindaloo_."

"Hermione, what's a vindaloo?" Asked Ron. Hermione paled then turned green

"Oh Ron, oh poor, _poor_ Ron." Was all she managed to say.

Before he could question anymore as to why it was poor Ron, the doors to the Hall opened. In its entrance stood Minister Fudge, Umbridge, Amelia Bones, and the two reporters from the Prophet.

"Ah, splendid; it looks as though everyone is here!" Minster Fudge remarked, "Shall we proceed, Dolores?"

"Certainly, Minister." She smiled, "I'm sure that we can arrange for five more seats at the head table." With that, the five walked down the hall.

Minister Fudge paused next to Harry on his way. Not for the first time, Harry cursed the fact that the Gryffindor table was one of the middle tables along with Ravenclaw—then he cursed himself for sitting in the middle aisle.

"Now, Harry." He said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I'm sure that everything will be settled soon and the _truth_ will come out." He walked off, grinning like a madman, missing the look of disgust Harry shot him.

"I've got it Dolores, a single fresh hair." He mumbled to her under his breath.

Upon reaching the head table, Umbridge looked at Dumbledore with a triumphant look on her face, "Headmaster, I require some more seats for the Minister, myself, Madam Bones, and our two guests here." She said with her sickly smile still in place.

"Professor Umbridge, Minister, Amelia, may I ask what pleasure brings you all to Hogwarts today? And to call such a gathering." He said eyes twinkling. His twinkle faded slightly as Amelia shot him a 'Stop this! Now!' look.

"That will be revealed shortly, Dumbledore." Said Fudge. "Our seats, if you please."

Looking curious now, but still somewhat worried, Dumbledore swept his wand to the side and five chains zoomed towards him, swerving at the last moment to place themselves at the end of the head table. "Your seats." He said.

Minister Fudge, Madam Bones, and the two reporters sat down while Umbridge turned to address the hall, "Hem hem!" She cleared her throat, causing the hall to fall silent. Umbridge inwardly grinned, thinking that they had finally learned that she was their better. "Students and staffs of Hogwarts, I have called you here today to offer you a chance to see the truth," she announced dramatically, "A chance to see why we, at the Ministry, do not follow the lies spread by some... unmentionable people." She said glaring at Harry. "Minister, if you please?"

Minister Fudge placed the hair he had stolen from Harry onto the table and looked at Madam Bones. Reluctantly, she sharply clapped her hands twice and two Aurors entered the hall, each taking their station on either side of the doors—but not before they closed and locked them. The only thing that prevented Harry from suspecting that it was a Death Eater plot and start shooting curses was the fact that the two Aurors were Tonks and Shacklebolt.

The action caused much to the alarm of the staff.

"What is the meaning of this?" Dumbledore asked in an icy tone of voice.

"From now on, no one is to leave this hall without my direct permission." She turned to the hair and pointed her wand pointed at it. Then, she spoke, "Praeteritum prodere, abscondit, praesentibus post ostendit oculis hominum. Nunc iter ad merge in futurum. Quaerimus intellegere ante peccatum. Ostende nobis Titan ostendit nobis quae desiderari." As the spell ended, there was a big bang.

~o0o~

Darkness, unending darkness greeted Harry.

"Son of a—! That stupid, idiotic—!" A voice exclaimed.

"Hello?" Harry asked tentatively.

The light came back on, but instead of being greeted with the by now familiar Hogwarts Great Hall, Harry was instead greeted by a giant. No, more than a giant. This _man_ , and Harry seriously hesitated in calling him one, could make giants cry out in fear. But he shrank, down he came, down to just above Harry's height.

"Mr. Harry Potter?" the now not-so-giant man asked.

"Yes, that's me, sir." Harry said, thinking it would be best to be polite to this unknown.

"Mr. Harry James Potter of World 2488754? Otherwise known as Rahkesh?" The man continued his questioning.

"World of what? And who? I'm Harry and um… I'm from Earth?" A now very confused fifteen year-old said.

"Not Rahkesh, then. Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!" The man started to pace. "She has no fucking idea how much work it will take to fix this goddamned mess!" the man ranted.

"Um, excuse me, sir? What mess? Where am I?" A confused Harry asked.

The man turned towards Harry and visibly calmed down. "Harry, there exists an infinite number of possibilities, and within each, at the very least a single individual has chosen a different action. Every action is a choice. Think of time like a pair of trousers; you can go down one leg or the other."

Harry looked lost, "You mean that there are more worlds? More... Voldemorts?"

"Yes." The man stated "However, as I said, each one is different through choices. Why, in one, Voldemort is a dance teacher at Hogwarts School of Classical Music. That ended with an alternate you using a nuke on the place." All Harry could do was catch flies. "Close your mouth, boy. As I said in my little rant, I now have to fix a mess caused by that Toad. _Again._ "

Closing his mouth, Harry asked tentatively, "Again, sir? And what exactly happened?" He chose to ignore a dancing Voldemort.

The man looked at Harry and drew himself up, "That spell the toad used can only be cast once a year using the _fresh_ hair of the target person. The moon must have _just_ fully left an eclipse, and on top of that, the spell must be cast by someone proven to be _pure of heart_. Sadly to say, the hair wasn't fresh, there was no eclipse, and I've seen hardened _criminals_ more pure of heart than she is. The toad also left out a key sentence to bind the spell, safe to say. Hell, she wouldn't even have succeeded in getting a spark out of the spell if it wasn't for the ambient magic lingering around Hogwarts. Your world is currently dust; each memory, each person floating in the in-between. And it just happens to be my duty to fix things like this."

"Sir, did you say dust?! My friends! Everyone! You can fix it can't you? Please say you can." Harry cried.

"Definitely no Rahkesh, then. Yes, boy, I can fix it. I will need the starting point of the spell and a task _must_ be done. You hear me? It _must_ be completed if I am to fix this mess."

"I will do anything, sir." Harry vowed, "Anything."

"It's simple. I send you back with an anchor to the other reality that you had been blown into. And the anchor, a story, _must be read_. Do you understand me, boy?"

"Yes, sir. I will make sure that the story is read." Harry promised.

"Good, I will send you back now. I will be with you shortly."

Before Harry's world went black once more, he was sure that he heard the man mumbling, "Now, A Second Chance at Life should be enough, but all the good bits are in Changes in a Time of War. Guess I'll just let them decide."

~o0o~

The Great Hall of Hogwarts greeted Harry once he opened his eyes again. It looked like everyone was either knocked out or thrown from their seats. As far as he could tell, he was the only one awake so far. Not surprising. After all, if a giant of a man who can bend the rules of _everything_ wants you awake, you wake.

Looking up he noticed that the night sky was missing; it was just blackness, a pure consuming black that would welcome him with open arms and never let go. Harry shivered, not wanting to look at the not-sky anymore.

He heard from groaning all around him; it seems like everyone was now waking up, looking around them wondering what had happened.

"MADAM UMBRIDGE!" Yelled Dumbledore, you didn't need to look at him to hear how angry he was—you could feel it in the very air itself. It was crackling with barely controlled magic.

Minister Fudge and Umbridge seemed to feel it, "Y-yes, Professor?" She squeaked. "Explain to me what was going through your head when you cast an unknown spell without researching it thoroughly and without permission on one of my students." Dumbledore ordered, making everyone in the room feel 12 and under.

"I needn't explain to you, Headmaster." Umbridge stated, "I am no longer a student of yours, nor am I under any obligations to explain to you why we, at the Ministry, felt that this was a calculated risk. Furthermore, since the target of the spell is a _half-blood_ orphan, we are allowed to do as we wish to him under Ministry Laws 1917-1945 Orphan Reforms." Shock ran through the hall at this proclamation.

"You WHAT?" Harry yelled, beginning to see red.

"What indeed, Mr. Potter." A voice boomed around the hall, "In all the universes I have seen, of all the laws I know, that is one of the most... disgusting."

"SHOW YOURSELF! I will not discuss Ministry Laws with an unknown nor shall I discuss them at this time!" Shouted Umbridge.

"Very well." The voice said. Out of nowhere, a giant of a man appeared. He was dressed in a metal unknown to most, a golden hue reflecting from its very surface as if alive.

"I am a Titan, a Master of Creation, Order and Reality, and you," the Titan paused, "You, Toady," He said pointing a finger at her, "You are a complication. I have never had anybody shatter as many realities as you."

As purple as Umbridge was in the face, it almost looked as though she would explode on the spot. "There is no such thing! I will have you arrested!"

"SILENCE!" The Titan yelled, "You will be silent; you have no idea what you have done, no idea of the monumental task that now befalls myself and some others. You have destroyed this reality with your half-arsed, half-baked plan to show lies that only exist in your feeble little mind."

"..." Umbridge couldn't say a word.

"Excuse me, what is a Titan? What business do you have in my school and what do you mean regarding our reality?" Asked Dumbledore.

"As I stated, a Titan is a creator and defender of realities. My business is thus; this... woman, by mistakenly using a spell left here in times of past, has destroyed your reality. The blackness you see outside is the end of everything, the end before its time. It needs to be fixed, and for that, I needed the place and subjects of origin to carry out the repair. The way it was destroyed was simple; through a spell to read the _alternate_ life of an individual that was butchered so badly you can't tell the up from the down." While he was talking, he began to shrink to a normal-sized man next to Harry.

"To fix it, we need to untangle the threads of your time from the other. Thankfully, we are practiced at this and it can be done by simply reading the alternate so we can see the entangled moments and analyze the differences." Resting a hand on Harry's shoulder he continued, "This young man is your catalyst. I have already received his approval for it—both him and his alternate—no one else has a right to object. Now, I will lay out some rules for you. One, I will invite guests to join this reading. They are NOT to be harmed in any shape or form. Two, the reading will be done magically, automated, and if someone speaks out above a certain volume, the reading will pause. Three, the reading _must_ be completed or else this reality will shatter once and for all with no chance of recovery."

"I understand. Mentions of your race are told within obscure texts around the world, I will make sure it is done Lord Titan," Dumbledore agreed and bowed. With a smile, the Titan waved a hand, silencing Umbridge who was about to protest. "Keep them in check, Headmaster Dumbledore." The Titan faded away.

The doors to the hall blew open with a bang, a figure standing at the entrance. A very tall, very handsome, dark-haired, silver-eyed man who had a small scar running through one eyebrow walked towards the head table without a sound. The doors closed behind him. Clicking his fingers, an ornate chair appeared at one end of the table, next to Charity Burbage. The woman blushed as he looked at her.

"Identify yourself." said Dumbledore

The man looked amused, "I am Tristan Namach." he said, and sat down.

Dumbledore paled. The two reporters at the other end of the table tensed, then relaxed and Tristan sent them a brief look. "Tristan Namach? Of Akren?" Dumbledore asked, clenching his wand.

Namach grinned, showing the pointed teeth of a vampire. "The very same, _tasked_ by a Titan to help fix your mess and have a little holiday from the war in my reality. You need not worry young man," he said to Dumbledore, "I'm not here to harm a fly, a toad maybe, but not a single living being otherwise." _'But that's not to say that I won't if they annoy me.'_

Umbridge yelled, "Filthy, disgusting, less than human MONSTER!" She threw a curse at Namach.

Namach casually moved his head to the side, dodging the spell. His power came to the forefront of his mind and the hall coated itself in ice. When he spoke again, his silky smooth voice did nothing to hide the threat underneath. "Though I understand that toads aren't the smartest of amphibians, they should at the very least be in possession of the most basic survival instinct. Do you require me to teach you why exactly they are necessary?"

"Forgive us, Mr. Namach, she is a bit slow but will now _comply_ with every word the Titan said, isn't that right?" Dumbledore said, looking at Umbridge.

"Y-yes, headmaster." She replied, sinking into her seat.

"Very well then... commence the reading." Namach said.

 **A Second Chance at Life - written by Miranda Flairgold** a voice said from everywhere and nowhere.

~o0o~

 **And that's the end of chapter 0.5. It was mostly written by shadowkass101, I just did some edits.**

 **In this story there will probably be a lot of assumptions about Miranda Flairgold's work, otherwise it won't make much sense. There are a few inconsistencies in the trilogy. Off the top of my head, I can think of three. 1) Ally was in the bloodmagic class, but then she wasn't. 2) Italy apparently doesn't exist. 3) Atlantis was destroyed by the elves or by the demons.**

 **If anyone else has noticed other mentionable things, I would appreciate it if they could tell me. And if they have any ideas for the story, those would be appreciated as well.**

 **I'm bad at writing character interactions, so a lot of people will probably be out of character. A good portion of the student populace will be mute.**

 **And this fic will contain lots and _lots_ of spoilers. **


	2. Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1, Part 1

 **A Second Chance at Life - written by Miranda Flairgold** a voice said from everywhere and nowhere.

 **Chapter 1**

Harry blinked, "It's separated into chapters?" he whispered to Hermione.

"Well," Hermione began uncertainly, "It is a book, after all. Books have chapters." Harry wondered how long this is going to take.

 **The gunman**

The reading was interrupted immediately as several purebloods, Ron among them, spoke out, "What's a gunman?"

Snape bit back a scathing remark, not out of kindness, but due to the fact that several of his Slytherins had asked the same question.

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione sighed, then she continued loud enough for the everyone to hear, "A gunman is someone who uses a gun, a muggle weapon incorporating a metal tube from which—" Harry cut her off.

"'Mione," he said, "I think it's enough to simply say that a gun is a muggle weapon that can kill."

"You got to be joking, Potter." Draco Malfoy, who had up to now kept silent out of shock, exclaimed, "Muggle weapon? Kill? The lot of them are dumb as apes, there's no way that they can make a weapon." He sneered.

Before Harry could come up with a comeback, Namach cut in, "Believe it or not, it's true." He said curtly and turned to address the Great Hall, "While asking questions and learning is good, we won't get anywhere if the reading is constantly interrupted. If you have any question muggle related, ask the people near you _quietly_ instead of disrupting the whole hall." He had a tone of finality in his voice.

Malfoy, out of bravery or sheer stupidity, questioned him, "Who do you think you are to order us, half-breed?" Namach shot him a glare and Malfoy wilted in his seat. Harry could have sworn that his already unnerving silver eyes _glowed_.

 **moved silently through the house, his padded boots making no noise on the floors. The boy**

"Five galleons that the boy mentioned is Harry." Fred whispered to George.

"Well, of course it's Ickle Harrikins; who else can it be? He's always in the middle of things like this and this _is_ his story after all." George replied. The twins didn't notice Tristan staring at them in amusement.

 _'_ _Ickle Harrikins?'_ Tristan mouthed to himself and snickered silently, _'And Rahkesh complained about having Thunder for a nickname.'_

 **had to be here somewhere; the woman had said he was. A door was nudged open with one shoulder and the man leaped inside, there was no one. A small door, slightly ajar, and flight of steps downwards into a basement, the lights were on. Down there then. Hiding? Did he know he was here? An ambush?**

"Ambush? Potter? The brat can't even write a proper essay; there's no way that he can be planning an ambush." Snape sneered. Harry was offended.

"What exactly do essays have to do with ambushes?" Namach asked coolly; if all the teachers at Hogwarts are like this, then it's no wonder that Rahkesh chose Akren instead.

Harry was startled that someone he doesn't even know defended him, however indirectly, but kept silent.

"His essays show that Potter has not a single brain cell in that head of his." Snape responded.

"Just because I'm not good at writing doesn't mean that I can't think!" Harry retorted angrily.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for talking back to a teacher." The potion master's eyes flashed with triumph.

Harry bit his tongue as Hermione hissed a warning at him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the vampire shooting him an unreadable look. Who was he, anyway?

 **The hired killer**

"Now I'm confused." Harry said, "Is this person a muggle or a wizard? Do wizards even have assassins? Aren't they illegal?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, "The books I read didn't say anything mercenaries or anything of the sort."

"There are plenty of killers for hire in the wizarding world," Daphne Greengrass dismissed, "You just need to know where to look."

"And how do you know that, Ms. Greegrass?" Professor McGonagall looked at her disapprovingly.

"It's common knowledge within the pureblood families," Daphne replied in an aloof voice, "We don't all wear rose-tinted glasses like you do; we see the dark side as well as the light side of the wizarding community."

"Ignoring something doesn't mean that it isn't happening," Blaise Zabini added his own knut and Theodore Nott inclined his head in agreement, "And while sometimes ignorance is bliss, information is power."

"Well said." Namach nodded approvingly.

"Thank you, Lord Namach." Daphne and Blaise replied in unison.

"Oh?" Namach raised an eyebrow, "You know who I am?"

"A few of us do." Theodore stated.

Malfoy looked at them in confusion, "Who is he?" he demanded, "And how do you know him?"

"He's well known outside of the British Isle." Daphne answered coldly, "Those of us who have connections outside of England have heard mentions of him."

"Oh yes." Malfoy sneered, "I almost forgot that the two of you are foreigners. And Nott is almost as bad for associating with you two."

Daphne raised her head haughtily, "I am quite proud of my American heritage. Besides, my family prepares me for life in the real world, can you say the same?"

"What about Zabini? We all know that his mother—"

"That's enough." Snape cut in, seeing that the conversation was heading into dangerous territory. What was Draco doing? His godson knew that Slytherin had to maintain the front of House unity against outsiders. Greengrass, Zabini, and Nott may be the odd trio out, but Draco knew better than to air Slytherin's dirty laundry for everyone to see. Something must have shaken him badly for him to lose all rationality.

Malfoy looked unhappy, but was unwilling to disobey his head of house.

 **decided it was unlikely, he was only sixteen; he couldn't know anything of ambushes. The man slowly began to walk down the stairs, gun ahead of him, the boy was probably doing the laundry, muggles did that in the basement right?**

"Why do they do laundry in the basement?" Ron asked Hermione, "I mean, I don't know much about washing clothes, but don't you need water for that? Shouldn't they go to the nearest river?"

"There are such things as washing machines and sinks, you know." Hermione answered with a frown.

"They have sinks too?" Ron's eyebrows shot up in astonishment, "But I thought only wizards had them. And what's this mee-che-na thing you talked about?" What followed was an explanation of machinery.

Tristan frowned from where he was sitting, _'Do British wizards believe muggles to be cavemen?'_

 **But down below Harry Potter** ** _was_** **waiting, and he most certainly** ** _was_** **planning an ambush.**

Ron frowned, "That isn't very honourable, mate." Harry was too focused on the story to hear him, but those surrounding him (all Gryffindor) did, and they silently agreed with Ron.

 **He'd heard the cruciatus curse the man had used on his Aunt,**

"Why didn't you try to help you aunt, Harry?" Dumbledore asked sadly.

Harry looked up as the reading stopped and answered Dumbledore, "I don't know, sir. This isn't actually me, remember?" Silently, he thought that _he_ probably wouldn't have helped Petunia either, especially with what happened last summer.

 **despite the silencing spell, and he had heard the click of a gun and the soft tread of feet. His Uncle's pistol**

"Pistol?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Another word for gun."

Harry remembered that particular gun very well; how could he forget it when his uncle had threatened to shoot him with it more than once?

 **was in an old dresser down in the basement, and if he used magic the Ministry would know.**

Namach never did get the Underage Magic Laws the Europeans employed. There aren't even any exceptions for these kinds of situations. It's just plain stupid in his opinion.

 **The gun then, he knew how to use it, had watched Uncle Vernon teaching Dudley. He hid behind the steps, waiting.**

"Your uncle thought your cousin how to shoot a gun, Harry?" Dumbledore looked solemn, "He kept it in the house?"

"Yes, but aren't you missing the _hired killer_ part, sir?" Harry asked wryly. Dumbledore paled.

"More importantly, Potter," Blaise said, acting as if hired killers were very common—and for him they are (his mother is one after all), "Why are you living with muggles?"

Harry eyed the Slytherin warily, "Why wouldn't I? They are my relatives, after all."

"Like Daphne said," Blaise drawled, "we aren't blind."

Harry flushed, but retorted, "Where else could I live?"

Theodore rolled his eyes, "We knew that you were reckless, Potter, but we didn't know that you were stupid as well. You're the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, meaning that in the eye of the law, you're an adult as soon as you turn 14 and become Lord Potter. It's why the Goblet of Fire accepted your name last year. By the way," he added, "this makes the Ministry Laws 1917-1945 Orphan Reforms null, which means that what the Minister and Senior Undersecretary just did was illegal." Harry just stared at him blankly.

"Impossible!" Umbridge screeched, "I have never heard of such a law!"

Blaise gave her an unimpressed look, "Please learn all of your own laws and not just the ones that benefits you."

"Wait, what?" Harry finally found his voice, "The Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter?"

"Don't you know anything, Potter?" Daphne frowned, "While House Potter isn't as rich as the Malfoys or as old as the Blacks, it is a Most Ancient and Noble House. An heir can become the lord at the age of 14, at which point they legally become an adult. This is to prevent the government from having any power over the lord. The Ministry can't do anything to change it—it was one of the Founding Laws of Magical Britain laid down by the Council of Lords over a millennia age."

"I...didn't know that." Harry managed to say.

Daphne almost rolled her eyes, "Just go visit your Gringotts family vault manager." Harry simply nodded, dumbfounded. He didn't notice Dumbledore shooting the Slytherins an unhappy look.

 _'Interesting.'_ Tristan thought, _'I didn't know that either. It looks like Magical Britain is more complicated than it seems at first glance.'_

 **The assassin looked around the basement and stepped off the last step, at the same moment as a bullet hit him right in the middle of his chest.**

"You shot him! Harry!" Hermione shouted, looking ill.

Harry held his hands in front of him as if to ward her off, "Not me, 'Mione, not me. It's an alternate version of me, remember?"

Meanwhile, the Silver Trio (Blaise, Daphne, and Theodore) were shooting each other looks. It looks like there's more depth to Potter than they thought—they might have to change their plans. It might be a bad thing, or a very _very_ good thing.

 **There was a man lying on the floor, in a pool of blood,**

Some of the younger students whimpered and covered their ears.

 **and the younger man pulled a knife from a hidden arm sheath and placed the tip next to the fatally wounded man's eye. The dying man looked up into burning emerald eyes.**

 _'_ _Like Lily's,'_ Snape thought with a frown, _'What would she say if she saw her son like this?'_ But personally, Snape approved; he was a spy, and spies generally did everything they could to survive.

 **"Who are you working for? What are you doing? Tell me if you want a quick death. However, if you would rather I cut your eyes out, then just keep your mouth shut."**

The occupants of the Great Hall (minus Namach, of course) paled in unison; who knew that Harry could be so ruthless?

"Madam Bones," Umbridge began, "Shouldn't you be arresting Mr. Potter for murder?"

Amelia frowned, then shrugged, "This Mr. Potter did not commit the murder and I have no jurisdiction in another universe." Shacklebolt and Tonks inwardly smiled; leave it to Madam Bones to do what she wants, yet still follow the law.

"Mister Namach, is there a way to stop the younger children from being exposed to this?" Dumbledore asked; while he understood that reading the story was a necessity, some might cringe at the violence.

"No," Namach replied nonchantly, "It might be good for them anyway."

 _'How is violence good for anyone?'_ Harry wondered.

 **The owl dropped down into the fog towards an old farmhouse.**

"What?" Muttered a few people, startled by the non sequitur.

"Line break." The Ravenclaws, plus Hermione, replied in unison.

 **The sun was just burning through the clouds and the birds' feathers glowed white in the early morning rays. One window was wide open, waiting for her; the people inside had been up for hours.**

"People who wake up that early are just plain crazy." Ron mumbled under his breath.

 **"There! There she is!" Hermione shouted leaping off her chair and snatching the letter from the snowy owls' talons. The bird hooted indignantly and settled on an empty perch.**

A hooting sound could be heard and Hedwig flew through the opened doors to the Great Hall. In her talons was a letter. She landed in front of Harry and he curiously (and warily) took the letter from her. Some of Moody's lessons must have stuck.

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _There will also occasionally be people from your universe joining the reading as I restore them. Top on the list is Mr. Sirius Black, so I hope that you will convince those present of his innocence before then._

 _If you aren't able to accomplish this goal, then an enclosed space with almost no one being able to enter or exit is an ideal location to drive a few facts into a couple idiots._

The letter wasn't signed, but it was clear who it was from. The letter disappeared in a flash of light.

Harry grinned, thinking of Padfoot's impending visit. Now, how to prove his godfather's innocence…

As it began to seem that Harry wasn't going to say anything, those watching him reluctantly turned away.

Tristan caught the projected thought, _'Interesting, especially with who else is likely to…'_ Then as an afterthought, _'They really should teach their students occlumency.'_

 **"Well? What's it say?" Ronald Weasely asked, leaning over Hermione's shoulder to read.**

 **"Relax Ron, let her open it first, read it aloud will you?" Ginny said, the five of them, herself, the twins, Ron, and Hermione had been waiting for this letter. After the wedding of Bill and Fleur**

Shock rippled through the Gryffindor table, mainly from the red-headed section.

"Bill and Fleur?" Ron exclaimed, standing up, "Since when do they know each other?!"

"Well, little brother—"

"—we would assume that—"

"—since sometime—"

"—in the future." Gred finished.

Ron sat back in his seat, numb with shock.

 **Harry had returned, briefly to his relatives while the others remained at the Burrow.**

 **"Okay, okay, here." Hermione said unfolding the parchment.**

 **Hey all,**

 **Please try to read this through without throwing a fit;** **I have a lot to tell you. There has been a change of plans.**

"Plans? What plans?" Harry asked in confusion. None of his friends had an answer for him.

"I would assume that we will find out if we let the voice continue." Namach answered instead. Harry nodded.

 **When I was at my relatives a man walked up and stunned my Aunt.**

"Stunned?" Hermione interrupted, "I thought he crucio'ed her? And Harry wasn't there at the time."

Malfoy snorted, "Isn't it obvious, Granger? The Golden Boy lied to you. He doesn't want you to know that he didn't help the muggles."

"Harry isn't like that." Hermione protested.

"Have any other explanation?" Hermione kept silent, "I didn't think so."

 **He then pulled out a gun and attempted to shoot me.** **I had my Uncle's pistol, I was "borrowing" it in the hopes that bullets could go through magical shields.**

"Can they?" Harry was the one who asked, although the entire Hall seemed to anticipate the answer.

"We don't know." Professor Dumbledore answered, "No one has had a reason to try before." This seemed to prompt Shacklebolt out of his on-duty silence.

"Theoretically, the standard shield charm can block anything." He answered, "However, bullets have a lot of force behind them and the faster ones can shatter a shield cast by the average wizard almost instantly, just like how a strong spell can also shatter a shield. I have read that there are shield spells created for the express purpose of stopping fast moving objects, but I do not know any." Kinsgley finished.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, was it?" Namach looked at him thoughtfully.

"Yes," Shacklebolt was shocked, "how do you know?"

"I have heard of your name in my world." he replied, "And you are entirely correct on the matter of bullets."

Minister Fudge was frowning, "How did you come by this piece of information, Auror Shacklebolt?"

"As an auror," Shacklebolt began, "It is my duty to ensure the safety of the wizarding world, even from muggles. When I learned of these 'guns', I studied them along with other muggle technology." Beside him, Tonks shifted guiltily; she was an auror as well, but hadn't even began to think what the job truly entailed.

 **I guess I just fired faster than he did. I'm okay; he died in the basement (that's where I was when he found me). When I saw he was dying, I took out that knife (thanks for that, Fred, George)**

The twins high-fived each other.

 **and threatened to cut his eyes out if he didn't tell me what he was doing, who he was working for.**

"Isn't it obvious that he's working for You-Know-Who." Ron commented. Fudge and Umbridge turned red in the face.

"You-Know-Who is dead!" Fudge exclaimed.

Harry ignored him, tired of the old argument, and answered Ron instead, "I think that the me in the story found it a bit hard to believe that Voldemort has a Death Eater who uses a gun. They're all purebloods, right?"

"I suppose."

 **Okay, bad news first:**

"Aren't they always?" Harry asked rhetorically.

 **Voldemort has put out a contract, for any assassin that will kill me.**

Harry inwardly thought that that wasn't like Voldemort; the madman is the kind to want to kill his targets himself.

 **Apparently the reward is something amazing because the man mentioned that there were several others, he just got to me first.**

 **Good news: he's the only one who found out how to get to me, yet.**

 _'_ _But that's already one too many.'_ Harry sighed.

 **Bad news: There's other rewards for anyone who I've been talking to or associating with, no names, just anyone I contact.**

"Why from now on?" Hermione mused out loud, "Why not those from the past as well?"

Harry shrugged, "I assume it's because that's too many people. Not to mention that it also includes the Slytherins and Voldemort's Death Eaters."

"Never mind that," Hermione declared, "Ignore him; you must come to us for help. There isn't anywhere else you can go."

"It's not my decision, Hermione." Harry reminded, "It's not me, remember?"

Tristan noted another difference between Harry and Rahkesh; if it had been Thunder, the young man would have raged at thought that someone had the power to tell him what to do, especially when the order made no sense.

 **Ron, Hermione, I told you that I would not be going back to Hogwarts,**

"Wait, what?!" Hermione screamed, "Harry, you have to! Think about your future!" the Ravenclaws nodded in agreement, creepily in unison.

Harry groaned in exasperation, "Not me, Hermione."

"It sounds like Saint Potter thinks himself too good for school." Snape remarked scathingly. Harry bristled, but told _himself_ that it wasn't him.

 **and I'm not. When I found out about the assassins I went into hiding (don't ask where). I have found a place to go to for a while, I still need to finish my schooling**

"Exactly!" Hermione said, "You need to finish your schooling and Hogwarts is the best school in the world!"

"Excuse me?" Namach questioned icily, "I'll have you know that Hogwarts is in fact considered one of the _worst_ schools in the world, along with Beauxbatons. Durmstrang is only slightly better." Voices erupted in the Great Hall, but the bloodmagic professor spoke over them, "In fact, many of those who leaves Europe have to go back to school for a year or two in order to find a job."

"That's impossible!" Many of the Ravenclaws, plus Hermione, exclaimed.

"I assure you that it's entirely true." Namach replied.

"That's enough for now." Dumbledore interrupted, "We'll discuss this later." Many students did not look satisfied but settled back into their seats.

 **you see, I just don't have enough experience yet to tackle the Death Eaters.**

"Potter? Not capable of something?" Malfoy mocked, "Never!"

"There are plenty of things that I am not capable of, Malfoy. Shutting you up, for one." Harry replied unfazed by the mockery; he had long since gotten used to it. At least this time it wasn't something about his parents or Sirius. Speaking of Sirius, isn't there some sort of truth spell? Just to indicate that he isn't lying when he tells them that Sirius is innocent.

 **This will be the last letter I send to you for a few months. Do not try to contact me, it's a safe bet that all of your entire family's outgoing and incoming mail is being intercepted and read. If you write a letter to me they will kill you too, and Hogwarts, as you well know, is not very safe.**

"Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain!" Surprisingly, it was Neville who interrupted this time.

"That's right!" Ron supported him, "Dumbledore is the only one that You-Know-Who is afraid of!" Harry nodded in agreement.

"Nonsense," Fudge said, "You-Know-Who isn't back and there's nothing that you have to be safe from."

"Let's just," Tristan began, starting to get annoyed at the constant repetition, "Pretend for now that, yes, Voldemort is alive in this _parallel universe_."

 **Better to let them think you have no idea where I am, which is why I'm not telling you. If you don't know they can't get it out of you through torture or truth potions.**

Hermione and Ron paled.

 **I will contact you once I find a safe enough way to do so. Ginny, please look after Hedwig for me. Everyone knows she's my owl and she's not exactly inconspicuous.**

 **When you go back to school, if Draco Malfoy is there keep an eye on him. But I don't think he's too much of a problem. You see when Dumbledore was cornered by the Death Eaters,**

Concerned murmurs flew across the hall while most of the Slytherins shot each others smug looks.

 **Draco had been assigned to kill him,**

Silence. Harry had never heard such stifling silence before. Then his mind caught up with what his ears heard and he surged with the rest of his table.

Spells flew as the Gryffindors tried to get at Malfoy. Said Slytherin was frozen in shock for a moment before he quickly cast a shield spell. The other Slytherins started to return the spells. Unfortunately, the Ravenclaws who were between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins were quickly caught up in the fight.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Harry shouted.

Malfoy blocked the spell and shot back one of his own, " _Avis Oppugno!"_ Harry quickly dove out of the way and the conjured birds started attacking the Hufflepuffs.

The Hufflepuffs, who semi-believed him about Voldemort's return (mostly because of Cedric's unfortunate death), were already antagonistic towards to Slytherins. With this attack, they joined the Gryffindors in fighting the Slytherins.

Harry cast a banishing charm at Malfoy and this one connected, throwing the blond boy into the wall. He had no time to celebrate, as he immediately had to fend off attacks made by an enraged Pansy Parkinson. " _Diffindo!_ "

Tristan watched the chaos with amusement while taking note of the students' fighting ability. Most of them sucked big time, but a few were above average, including Harry. While his skill was nothing compared to Rahkesh, he showed an innate fighting instinct that elevated him above his peers. Beside him, the Headmaster stood up.

"Enough!" Dumbledore raised his voice and shot red sparks in the air, "I am very disappointed in you all; ten points from everyone who participated in this fight." Dumbledore sat back down, "Please remember that nothing has happened yet, and since this is a story from another universe, isn't likely to happen. Mr. Malfoy shouldn't be held accountable for the actions committed by another him. Anyone who is injured should go to Madam Pomfrey." He gestured to the school nurse, who, due to the announcement, was also in the Great Hall.

Harry sat back down in his seat near the front of the table, one of the few who did not get injured. He looked around the hall and was proud to see that most of his students from the DA were untouched as well.

Those injured beyond bruises and scrapes went to get healed by Madame Pomfrey while the reading continued

 **and he didn't.**

Sighs of relief could be heard throughout the hall.

 **Malfoy backed down, he wouldn't do it. He was ordered to, but he refused to cast the spell. He made no move to protect Dumbledore from Snape,**

"Greasy bat!" Ron insulted. Various others shouted their own insults.

Just when it seemed as if another fight would start, the students found themselves unable to move from their seat. Harry looked down and saw that he was literally frozen to his seat.

"Do you people not listen?" Namach growled; while it was at first amusing, their obtuseness was starting to get on his nerve.

"Mr. Namach, please release my students." Dumbledore requested stiffly.

"Then control them. What kind of Headmaster are you?" The ice disappeared with a flicker of his fingers. Beside Harry, Hermione gasped.

Wandless magic, Harry realized. Namach did the same when he first arrived, but back then he was too occupied with his appearance to care much about his magic. Harry felt a shiver go down his spine; how strong is he to be able to use wandless magic so casually?

 **not with a mad werewolf**

"Of course a half-breed would be involved." Umbridge insulted, "The lot of them should be shut in cages for the rest of their existence."

Namach snarled, "While I have no love for werewolves, they are fully sentient beings and should be treated as such. They aren't animals." His glare and suffocating magic cut off any reply that Umbridge might have shot at him.

 **and several Death Eaters around him, but he wouldn't do it himself. Makes you wonder doesn't it. I'll tell you something else; he's only working for the Death Eaters because Voldemort threatened to kill his mother and father.**

Malfoy paled. What? But the Malfoys were on the Dark Lord's side! Did he treat all of his allies this way?

 **If someone told you to bring Death Eaters into Hogwarts, or watch your family die, what would you do?**

 **I'm really sorry I have to do this guys, I know we were planning to do this together,**

"Do what together?" Harry muttered under his breath. The question had been bothering him non-stop.

 **but I don't have much of a choice. By the time you get this letter there's a good chance I'll already be out of England entirely.**

"But you don't know anyone, Harry." Hermione said, worried.

Harry shrugged, "I'll figure something out; I always do."

 **Don't worry too much about me; I have a few backup plans you see. In the envelope you will find fifteen small phials, these are filled with that wonderful luck potion.** **There's one for all of the Weasely's, including Fleur, as well as Neville, Remus, Hermione, and Luna. Give the other phials to whomever you think might need them. I brewed**

Snape almost said something regarding Potter's non-existing potion-brewing skills, but stopped himself; he is a Slytherin, after all, and it isn't smart to rile people up when half the student populace already looked mad enough to kill him.

 **these around Christmas, didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure if it would work, the potions a little different from the regular luck potion. I made up my own version that takes less time. Yes Hermione I actually did, that damn book**

' _What book?_ ' Harry asked himself and for the nth time, came up with no answer.

 **had nothing to do with it, you know, I actually am fairly good at Potions, the book just made everything even easier. Keep them with you at all times, if you're ever in trouble drink it.**

 **Good luck to all of you, we** ** _will_** **see each other again.**

 **Best wishes,**

 **Harry Potter**

 **"Oh Harry, you didn't have to!" Hermione wailed, gripping the letter so hard it ripped**

 **"But, but, h-he can't just** ** _do_** **that!" Ron said incredulously. The others didn't speak for a moment.**

 **"Ron, he already did." George said finally. Then pulled out two of the phials and tossed one to his twin.**

 **"Have some faith Ron,"**

Harry shot the twins a grateful smile; even if it wasn't really them or him that they were talking about, he still appreciated it. It seems as if no one trusted him these days.

 **Fred said, slipping his phial into a pocket.**

 **"He'll do fine," George added.**

 **"He's a tough guy Harry." Fred finished, the twins apparated away.**

 **Harry watched Hedwig fly away. Ginny would look after her.**

 **Contrary to what he had said in the letter he was still in England,**

"Gasp, shame on you, Harrikins. Lying to your friend." George tutted.

"Have we not proved ourselves trustworthy?" Fred asked mournfully, clutching a hand to his chest. Harry suppressed a grin.

 **still at his Aunt and Uncles house in fact. But if the letter was intercepted, as he believed it would be, they would start looking outside of England, and perhaps that would buy his friends some safety. He had buried the assassin the backyard, so deep no one would ever find him, the ground had opened up for him, but the Ministry had said nothing about accidental magic.**

Tristan wondered if it was really; accidental magic didn't happen on command. It usually happened during moments of high stress or emotion, and while Rahkesh—Harry, he corrected himself, did want to hide the body, he did not appear to have been in any distress over it. But from what Tristan remembered, Rahkesh's mastery of wandless magic was minimal before he arrived at Akren.

 **They probably had better things to take care of.**

 **He had been honest when he'd said that he didn't think he was ready yet to take on the Death Eaters. The battle with Snape had shown him that, and Snape was one man he was going to kill no matter what.**

Snape shifted uneasily and Dumbledore frowned, "You shouldn't talk about killing so easily, Harry."

"No offence, sir, but I think that if Snape truly belongs to the Death Eaters, I have a right to want revenge." Harry said. Inwardly, he hoped that what he suspected wasn't true; it wasn't the first time that he questioned Snape's allegiance and every single time his worries proved to be false. While he did not like the potions professor, he did not worry about his survival around Snape. There's only one thing that can assure him of Snape's betrayal, Dumbledore's death. Harry had a sinking feeling it was indeed true—it was said earlier that Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore.

 **What he needed was time, time to practice, time to learn. And the resources to learn from. And Harry Potter had an idea. Originally he had thought of a time turner, to go back in time and study until he got back to the present. But the time turners were out of reach, the ones he knew of were destroyed.**

"How?" Madam Bones interrupted, "All existing time-turners are kept in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry shrugged, "Don't ask me, ma'am, I have no clue. What's the Department of Mysteries?" He asked curiously. He felt like he heard about it before, but couldn't remember exactly where.

"The research department of the Ministry of Magic." Madam Bones answered.

 **But there was a place with the resources he would need. And, if he needed it badly enough, time as well.**

 **The Room of Requirement.**

"What's the Room of Requirements?" Someone asked. A few others echoed the question, but Harry didn't hear them.

The Gryffindor was starting to get worried; while the story was about an alternate him, it seems like they share a lot of common secrets. At this rate, things that he doesn't want known could be revealed.

Unknown to him, a few DA members were shooting him looks. However, Namach caught them and tucked them away for later consideration—this Room of Requirements sounded quite interesting.

 **The day he got his license, one hour after he passed the test, Harry apparated**

"It looks like we finally knows when this happens." Harry mused.

Namach shot him an amused look, "If you wanted to know, I could have told you a long time ago." Harry blushed.

"But wait," Hermione said, confused, "Why would you risk revealing yourself to Ministry officials if you were on the run. And why wait until your birthday? It's not like the Ministry can track underage apparition; it's not wandmagic." No one had an answer for her.

"Are you saying, Ms. Granger," Umbridge began in a high pitched chirp, "That you condone illegal actions?"

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, "I'm just asking why. It doesn't make any sense."

Tristan thought that she had a point; Rahkesh wasn't one to do things without reason. Besides, it sounds like some time had passed since the assassin found him, so what has he been doing?

 **to the Shrieking Shack, from there he took the tunnel to the Whomping Willow.**

A few heads perked up at this new information and Harry frowned; will all his secrets be revealed? What next, the Marauder's Map and his invisibility cloak?

 **He had stopped after his test in Diagon Alley, where he had purchased what seemed like an excellent companion, to replace Hedwig and to help him with one area of his magic the Room of Requirement might not know about, Parseltong** **u** **e.**

"What!?" Ron exclaimed, "Harry! Parseltongue is dark!"

Malfoy jeered, "It looks like your little saviour is going dark, Weasel!"

Harry protested, "No, I'm not! I don't even like Parseltongue! Or snakes!"

Tristan silently sighed, _'If this is how Parselmouths are treated in Europe, then it's no wonder that Rahkesh had no interest in Parselmagic.'_

 **The creature was a snake, three feet long, magical, a black cobra with silver markings.**

"I don't believe that I have ever heard of this species of snake," Dumbledore remarked, "It might me poisonous. You should be careful, Harry."

Namach shook his head; the whole point of the reading was to have the people present recognize the difference between his world and theirs. At this rate, they'll be here for a long, long time. "I'm not surprised that you haven't heard of them," he told Dumbledore, "And Sygra is a sweetheart, really. She's very protective."

"Who?" Dumbledore asked.

Namach had to stop himself from rolling his eyes, "The snake."

Madam Bones was shocked, "Are you a Parselmouth as well?"

The vampire sighed, exasperate, "Of course not; Parselmouths are actually quite rare."

"Then how…?" Fudge trailed off.

"You don't really need to communicate to get to know someone." Body language and actions were very telling, although the same magic that created Parselmouths prevented him from understanding what Sygra is saying.

 **It said its name was Sygra.**

 **Getting into the school was surprisingly easy; an invisibility cloak**

Harry silently groaned as people turned to look at him in envy.

"So that's how you always get away." Snape said, a glare on his face. He made a note to himself to have Filch put invisibility cloaks on the list of forbidden items.

Malfoy was jealous, "Looks like being the boy saviour has some advantages."

Namach, knowing what happened to that particular cloak, smirked, "Well, it's not like he can use anymore." ' _Not that he needs to, with the Yeck cap._ ' Rahkesh had _finally_ asked for help in fixing the messed up cloak. Although because of the demon invasion, it wasn't on either of their lists of priorities.

"Why not?" Harry asked worriedly, wondering what happened to the only memento he had of his father.

Namach's smirk widened, "You'll see."

 **was all that he needed. He hurried through the empty corridors to the Room of Requirement, and paused. A sleep charm put the one portrait out for several hours. There was no sound of anyone so he quickly summoned a brick right out of the wall,**

Those closest to Filch heard him hissing about destruction of property.

 **he then removed one of his two watches and placed it behind the brick, before replacing it. Then he went into the Room.**

Harry and the rest of the DA breathed silent sighs of relief; they were safe for now.

 **Harry wished for a chair and it appeared,**

"Alright, Potter. Where is this Room of Requirements?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry plastered a confused look on his face, "I don't know. This is set two years in the future, right? I will probably discover it later."

Namach, who knew Rahkesh, the by far better liar, just looked at him, amused.

 **he sat down and looked at the second watch. The two had been set to the exact same time. Now all he could do was wish, and wait.**

 _ **Please, please, I need time, I need time, I need time to stop in here.**_

"That's impossible." The Ravenclaws and Hermione stated in unison, "There isn't any magic that can stop time."

 **Harry thought thinking hard about what he wanted to happen, he wanted time to pass normally inside the room, but he wanted the room to be removed from the world's time so that when he left it would be the same day, the same hour, the same minute, it was when he entered the room.**

' _This will be very useful if it actually works. The Founders must have been very strong._ ' Tristan mused, regretting not meeting the four when they were alive. While he's capable of creating such a space as well, it would take quite a bit of time and cause him some difficulty—meaning that it must have been near impossible to create in a human lifetime.

He had withdrawn most of his involvement with Britain after Merlin died, but it seems like he shouldn't have. Quite a few interesting things are turning up, first the Council of Lords and now the Hogwarts Founders.

 **Finally Harry stopped wishing, and started to work, wishing for a book on wordless spells he settled down to read.**

 **Two hours later the watch started to beep.**

"Beep? Muggle technology doesn't work in Hogwarts." Hermione, of course, was the one who said this.

"You know, there are spells that allow electronics to work in areas with a high concentration of magic." Namach said. He wondered when Rahkesh will arrive; he's getting tired of explaining everything.

"Really?!" Everyone was shocked.

Only Namach's dignity as a three thousands year old vampire prevented him from face-palming there and then, ' _I knew that Europe was backwards, but not this much. The spell was created by an alumnus, but surely not all of them is so oblivious of the outside world. Dumbledore, at the very least, should have known._ '

"That's useful," Shacklebolt commented, "The things we can do with muggle technology…"

 **Harry put down the book, picked up the watch, and left the room, he open the brick and took out the other watch, it should show the exact time it had when he'd entered the room. And it was still working fine. Relief washed over Harry, the Room of Requirement could stop time**

Murmurs of disbelief rippled through the hall, but no one spoke out.

 **for him, he could learn all he needed to know and emerge to the same minute he had entered.**

 **The room also provided everything he needed.**

 **He had tried to immediately jump into defensive and offensive magic, only to realize that his background in magic in general wasn't good enough.**

' _It's just like Potter to think himself capable of everything and bite of more than he can chew._ ' Snape thought.

 **After several hours of working through a book of rare spells, only to find that he couldn't perform any of them, Harry closed the book and sat back in his chair. What had started as a short trip of a few weeks or a month was rapidly looking like an impossibility. He needed time,**

"Well, you have it, mate." Ron said.

 **and, much as he hated to admit it, he needed to start with the basics of magic itself before he could reach this level. He still couldn't perform spells wordlessly,**

"Wordlessly?" Harry asked Hermione quietly.

"We'll start learning how to perform spells without incantations starting sixth year." Hermione informed him.

 **and he needed to know how** **.** **I** **t was time to start over.**

 **Harry thought strongly of books explaining how magic worked and the various ways to perform it, in seconds a small pile merged, Harry open the first book and groaned, this was going to take forever. Reminding himself of the magics Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Snape all seemed to be capable of, he began reading.**

Tristan thought that it'll be interesting to see how Rahkesh was like coming straight out of Hogwarts. At this point, he hasn't yet done any extra training and it was perfect for finding out how Rahkesh learned the best—he did plan on asking the young man to be his next apprentice.

 **Only to find that the book was so dull that after a few hours he could remember nothing he'd read. Taking notes didn't help. Harry had the room provide a potions' text and flipped through to a section on memory potions.**

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, "You have any idea how dangerous memory potions are? Of all the—"

Harry ignored him, still troubled by his earlier conclusion.

 **The Memory Potion will improve your memory for several hours after taking it. However this potion is itself dangerous, take a larger dose then required, or take too many doses in any twenty-four hour period and you risk permanent brain damage.**

"Apparently, I do." Harry mumbled quietly. Hermione shot him a sharp glance.

 **Harry looked over the potion, it was extremely difficult, but it didn't take too long to brew. And the room would provide the ingredients.**

"That breaks so many laws of magic." Hermione moaned quietly.

 **He'd have to be very careful**

"Potter? Careful?" Snape muttered.

 **with the dosage though. That was okay, in between he could practice spells, and, with the knife the twins had given him, fighting. That was another thing he knew nothing about. He needed an edge, if that meant muggle fighting then it did.**

"So you're sinking down to the level of muggles, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, "It only makes sense given your mudblood mother."

Harry bristled, "You take that back!"

"Or what?" He mocked.

"Twenty points from Slytherin for the use of bad language." Snape said abruptly. Harry and Malfoy gaped at him.

"But professor!" Malfoy protested.

"Another five points for arguing." Professor McGonagall said, "Settle down, Mr. Malfoy. You too, Mr. Potter."

Tristan wondered why Rahkesh agreed to help Draco Malfoy if this is how he used to be like. Yes, Thunder owned Mariah a favour, but surely it wasn't worth the trouble?

~o0o~

 **Who do you guys think should come next?**


	3. Chapter 1-2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and the ASCaL Trilogy belongs to Miranda Flairgold. And the plot belongs to shadowkass101.**

 **This is unbeta'ed and I apologize for any grammatical error. English isn't my first language.**

Chapter 1, Part 2

 **Harry swallowed another dose of the memory potion, grimacing at the hideous taste. He followed it with a potion to speed up reading skills, and another that would speed up how fast his mind comprehended the stuff he read.**

"That's a brilliant idea!" Ron exclaimed quietly to Harry—or at least as quietly as he can. Naturally, Hermione heard the whole thing and felt indignant.

"Ron! That's cheating!" She reprimanded, "I'm sure that the only reason Harry is using them is because he doesn't have enough time, right Harry?" Hermione addressed the green-eyed boy.

Said boy carefully didn't look her way; to be honest, he really can't see what's so wrong about making use of your resources. Those potions have been created for a reason, correct? If he's able to brew them by himself, then he should be able to take advantage of them, as long as it isn't for tests. It'll save him a lot of study time.

Hermione, who didn't get the expected answer, grew even more incensed, "Harry! You can't think that it's right as well!"

"What are you so angry about, Granger?" Malfoy drawled, "Learning aids are perfectly acceptable at Hogwarts, as long as you don't use them on tests. Many of the purebloods and half-bloods use them. Although I do suppose that a poor mud—muggleborn like yourself can't afford them." He cut off the insult, remembering what just happened. He still felt angry about that—how could Uncle Sev take points off his own House for such a reason? One would think that he's a mudblood lover. Unless, the rumors are true? He had heard his parents saying that Uncle Sev used to be in love with a mudblood…

Now far from angry, Hermione looked desperate. She stared at the professors, begging with her eyes for someone to tell her that Malfoy was lying. However, she slumped in defeat when none could meet her eyes. "This isn't right." She muttered under her breath.

"Pray tell," Tristan interrupted after hearing her whisper, "what isn't right?"

Hermione looked defiantly at him, "That people cheat on school work! It's unfair to those of us who are studying and learning honestly!"

He looked coolly at her; he was starting to comprehend why there existed such thing as pureblood superiority in Britain and the majority of Europe. If this was the behaviour of the muggleborns, then their disdain is understandable—though not acceptable. They set the standard of learning, so they should have tried to teach muggleborns about their way of thinking before discriminating against them.

"You have a feather-light charm on your school bag, do you not?" Tristan changed the subject abruptly.

Hermione was confused, but nodded yes.

"Do you think it's fair that you have a bag as light as feather, while your muggle counterparts have to carry around a heavy bag full of school books?" He pointed out.

"But that's different!" Hermione protested, "They're—"

"It the same concept." Tristan said firmly, "You have something they don't, while the purebloods have something you don't. You could even say that you having magic in itself is unfair."

Hermione looked down at the table, chastised. To be honest, Tristan didn't have to correct her, since she'll just forget it all anyway. However, he could tell that she's a good student, even if she's not his type of student (no, he prefers students of the more…interesting sort), and he is a teacher. Teachers teach, it's just that simple.

On the other hand, Hermione began to truly think about magic and its implications, as well as the difference between magicals and non-magicals.

 **Three months**

"Three months!" Harry shouted out loud, unable to restrain himself. He spent three months in the Room of Requirements?

Dumbledore looked at Namach, "How does that work? At this point, I am pretty much certain that Harry is going to Akren, but isn't there an age restriction?" He sounded resigned and tired about the possibility. If it was going to happen anyway, maybe he should have just listened to Alastor in the first place? But while he knew that magical creatures aren't all evil, violence isn't the be all and end all, and he doesn't want Harry to think that it is.

"True," Tristan responded, "There is an age restriction, but the restriction takes several different factors into account. Besides," he added, "Most magic that mess with time, such as time-turners and time stopping enchantments, have a component that stops the people affected from physically from aging while away from their proper time. It's complicated." He added at the end. If everything was just according to physical and mental age, then using time-turners for students who have not yet met the graduation requirements would not be possible.

"What's Akren?" Harry, and several others, asked.

"For now, all you need to know it that it is a school," Namach responded, "I have no doubt that you'll find out more very soon."

 **he had lived in the Room of Requirement, three months without hearing another human voice, he talked to himself while he brewed potions, it helped break the silence.**

Harry grimaced; he couldn't imagine what it would be like, living in complete silence without another human being. While he has gotten used to darkness and solitude due to his cupboard, he could still hear the Dursleys talking. He was also let out to go to the washroom or school.

What Harry didn't know was that he should really be thanking Ron—and so should Rahkesh, because the red-head's thoughts were so loud that it mostly blocked Namach from hearing his own. What could be heard made little to no sense.

 **Sygra, his magical black cobra with her delicate silver markings, was there to talk to, they had become good friends.**

"Harry!" Ron shouted, "How can you become friends with a snake?!"

Harry sighed; this was getting tiring, "Not me, Ron, not me." He turned and addressed the entire hall, "From now on, I am going to ignore anyone who says anything of the sort."

 **She helped him to think of things he wouldn't have ever thought of, the other potions were part of her addition to his training.**

 **The two other potions had been added in when it occurred to her that the memory potion alone could only help so much. The comprehension potion was especially useful. The books on how to work magic were all different; it seemed to Harry that magic was taught wrong.**

"What?!" Many of the professors shouted.

"You arrogant little—" Snape insulted, "Ten points from Gryffindor!"

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall said, "We are the teachers, here, not you!"

"—I have been teaching at Hogwarts for almost thirty years!" Flitwick proclaimed, "In that time, never has a student challenged my teaching method!"

Harry, keeping true to his earlier promise, ignored them.

Tristan snapped his fingers and the voice resumed reading the story despite the loud protests.

 **Different people's magic worked differently, the writers seemed to think so. He had spent a few weeks finding what worked best for him. He had learned that verbal incantations were mostly used to help focus the mind on a particular effect; wand movements had the same purpose. Harry had eliminated wand movements, they were distracting and for him unnecessary. Indeed it seemed likely that wand movements, while very useful for some, confused and distracted other people from the spell they were trying to do.**

A lot of students in the Great Hall looked thoughtful, and even some of the teachers seemed to be listening. Hermione who had looked down since Namach has given her a talking to, looked like she was about to pull out her wand and start casting at any moment.

 **He was one of the latter. In three months he hadn't worked on any real battle magic. He had planned to, but then he had remembered that it was Hermione's vast knowledge of little spells that were so helpful, and Dumbledore's drying spell. He'd always concentrated on big effects, ignoring the hundreds of other spells.**

"That's what I have been trying to tell you since first year." Hermione said exasperatedly. Harry just smiled sheepishly, more because _he_ has not realized it—yet.

 **He was learning those now. Along with how to brew his own potions.**

"Did you not learn anything in Potions class for the past five years?" Snape sneered.

' _No, you're a horrible teacher._ ' Harry thought.

 **Today he was working on healing magic.**

"Speaking of healing magic," Terry Boot began, "Why don't we have such a class in Hogwarts?" A few of his fellow Ravenclaws nodded, agreeing with him.

"Good question, Mr. Boot." Dumbledore replied, "We don't teach healing magic here because it is too specialized and too few people are interested in it. Healing requires great precision and talented healers are rare. We would only be able to teach the class to sixth and seventh years, and even then the class wouldn't have more than nine or ten students all combined."

Namach shrugged, "I honestly don't see the problem in that; all of my classes are that size or smaller."

"But Hogwarts doesn't have enough teachers to teach classes with less than a dozen students in them." Dumbledore said.

"We should at least have the opportunity to learn healing if we want." Terry protested.

"That's what apprenticeships are for." McGonagall said sternly.

"There are also several schools outside of Europe that are solely dedicated to the healing arts." Namach added, "Vorelli Academy, for example, is known for producing some of the best healers in the world."

"But isn't there some sort of way for us to get started earlier?" Neville asked, surprising those around him; the timid boy was not one to question the professors.

Madam Pomfrey interrupted before the discussion could go any further, "I will be glad to give extra lessons to any students who wishes to learn healing once term starts again. We can hash out the details later."

 **He had memorized the basics of bone and muscle structure in humans and most mammals, now he was asking the room for injured animals, and practicing treating them. The small dog on the table in front of him had a broken leg. There was a spell that allowed the user to see through the skin to the bones Harry had cast it and could see that it was a clean break, this one was simple. Broken bones took him no more than few minutes these days; at first the spell had taken a half hour.**

Madam Pomfrey looked impressed, "It only took you three months to get that far? And with no one guiding you? You have a gift with healing magic."

Healing students usually started with simple spell damage, such as counters for commonly misfired spells. Small injuries, such as small superficial cuts and a broken nose can be healed with an episky (as long as the wound wasn't caused by dark magic), but anything larger is much harder. Most healing students can't heal broken bones in a few minutes until they have trained for six months.

"Uh, thanks, Madam Pomfrey, but that's not me." Harry reminded her, breaking his silence at the genuine compliment.

"But you probably have the same capacity for healing." She retorted.

' _While the healing gift Rahkesh gained from being a Parseltongue was broken,_ ' Tristan thought, ' _It seems like he still has an above average ability with healing magic._ '

 **His usual routine for a day involved eating breakfast (which the room provided along with everything else),**

Another wave of 'that's impossible' rose up, and this time, Harry agreed with them; even he knows that food can't be conjured with magic. There are spells that accelerates and helps with the growth of crops, but there is no way of creating food directly with magic. However, as the 'Harry' in question isn't there with them, they have no way of knowing how it happened.

 **drinking the potions, and working on theoretical magic. He often needed an extra-strong concentration potion to help with this, but the study had paid off and he thought his grasp of magical theory was much much better now. One of the things he had always had trouble with was transfiguration,**

"And I don't know why." Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath, "Your father was great in Transfiguration."

 **but in one of the books he had come across an idea that had proved to be one of the most useful things he had learned in all his time at Hogwarts.**

Harry perked up, wondering what it might be. Maybe it'll help him with his schoolwork?

 **The levitation spell worked by lifting an object into the air. According to the book the spell was easier if you thought about all that went in to that movement. Gravity pulled down, the magic countered it, air moved around the object to fill the space it left. Careful thought about what the magic was physically, or in potions and transfiguration, chemically and biologically, doing, made the spell easier.**

"Is that true?" Someone asked.

"Let's try it." Another responded. Harry, along with many others, took out their wand.

He took out a pen that he had in his pocket and set it on the table, then he thought about the levitation charm and tried to think through the process. Instead of doing the wand movements and saying the incantation, he simply pointed his wand, mentally followed the process mentioned, and _willed_ the pen to lift off the table. To his immense surprise, it worked on his third try. Harry gasped.

All around the Great Hall, people were getting the same result, whether with wordless spells or spells that they never knew. Hermione, however, wasn't trying anything; she was just looking at the students, frowning.

Harry suddenly had a thought, ' _Was this how Hermione did it all so easily?_ ' He stashed the thought for later and looked up to the head table to see how the teachers were faring. He paused and stared.

All the teachers, except Dumbledore, were, like the students, testing out the new information they were given. ' _Did they not know either?_ ' Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Namach looking at them oddly.

"How were you teaching if you didn't know such a simple fact of magic?" the vampire asked them incredulously. "While wandmagic if much less personalized compared to something like wandless magic, it is well known that everyone learns magic differently. And it's only natural to think about what you are doing, is it not?" No wonder European wizards are so weak.

"I must admit that I did not know." McGonagall admitted stiffly, "We will correct this oversight as soon as possible." The students started to settle back down.

Harry noticed that Dumbledore didn't say (or do) anything. ' _Did he already know? Then why didn't he say anything to the other teachers?_ '

 **Ever since learning that tip Harry had thought about every spell he knew, and what the magic was actually doing to whatever he had cast the spell on. He only needed to go through it once or twice, then his mind seemed to understand the spell and it became simple. Was this how Hermione did it all so easily?**

Everyone looked at the smart Gryffindor in unison.

Hermione nodded, a frown still on her face, "Yes, it is. Like in chemistry or potions, learning about _how_ something is happening is part of the process. I thought that it was obvious."

"Well, _obviously_ not." Malfoy said.

"I know that now." Hermione replied.

 **If** ** _when_** **he saw her again he'd have to ask.**

Everyone sobered at that sentence; due to the new revelations, people had forgotten about Other Harry's current predicament, including Harry himself.

 **Thinking about his friends made him realize that he had no plans of what to do, he needed more than this room, he needed real experience and training from teachers. Hogwarts, he had decided, was out. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons weren't options either.**

"Why not?" Cho Chang asked curiously.

Harry blushed at the attention from his crush, "Er, I'm guessing that it's because I'll be recognized too easily."

Tristan looked highly amused, ' _So Rahkesh had a crush on this girl? Well, he is a teenager._ '

 **What other schools were there?**

Beside Harry, Hermione mused out loud, "I don't actually know of any other than Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. There is also Vorelli Academy, which was mentioned earlier, and that other school, Akren, but I had never heard of them before and don't know where they are situated." She seemed to suddenly realize something, "Mr. Namach," she addressed the vampire, "Are you a professor at this Akren?" Namach smirked and nodded.

"What kind of school hires a vampire for a professor?" Umbridge asked in disbelief.

"What kind of school hires a toad for a professor?" Tristan drawled back. Thankfully, there aren't any toad faes.

Umbridge bristled, "How dare you! I am a trained professional perfectly suited for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position!"

A predatory look appeared in Namach's eyes, "How would you like to prove that claim?" he purred. While a fight with the toad is won't be very engaging, he could at least amuse himself by torturing her. And who knows, maybe she knows some other obscure spell. Besides, it would establish his position among the humans; even Dumbledore, who knew who he was had nearly no respect for him. Although that might be because he's 'dark'.

"Very well." Umbridge idiotically agreed, "When?"

Namach hummed, "What time was it before you destroyed the universe?" Quite a few of the younger students were almost falling asleep where they were sitting. While time is technically frozen, the human body still has needs.

"Excuse me?" Umbridge did not understand what it had to do with her question.

Dumbledore interrupted, "It was slightly past 10 o'clock, Mr. Namach, but I must say that I really oppose to this." Harry noticed that the headmaster refused to call Professor Namach by his title.

"Tell the toad." Tristan said. ' _It's been around half an hour since my arrival, so it must be almost 11. While I am nocturnal, the others are not._ ' He wanted to make an example of Umbridge and the humans had to be awake enough to remember it. "How about in 13 hours?" He suggested; that'll be around midday.

"Afraid, vampire?" Umbridge sneered.

"Of who, you?" He asked, "Hardly. It's simply that your students are about to fall over in exhaustion and I would rather not repeat this. They should go to bed once this chapter's finished." He set a timer for 13 hours later.

 **Well, the Room was sure to know. Harry thought about how much he needed to know about wizarding schools. Specifically a place with a hard curriculum,**

"Why?" Ron complained, "Would it simply be better to get school over with as fast and easy as possible?"

Harry shrugged; he agreed with Ron, which was why he took Divination and Care instead of Arithmancy and Runes. He really wants to know what the Other Harry is thinking.

 **outside of Europe, someplace where he could learn without being such a big sensation,**

Snape frowned, ' _Is Potter really not as arrogant as I assumed?_ ' he quickly dismissed the possibility, ' _He's just like his father._ '

 **begin famous interfered.**

"Lockhart would disagree with you." Ron snickered.

' _Lockhart?_ ' Tristan asked himself, ' _The phony author who portrayed all vampires as weak cowards?_ ' the unofficial King of the Vampire had planned on killing that particular human himself, but the man disappeared before he could do so. He had more important things to do so he didn't try to look too hard. ' _I should ask Rahkesh what happened._ ' The young man might or might not answer, given his hatred of all things Harry Potter.

 **A place that taught dark arts**

"HARRY!" Ron and Hermione yelled. Other people started yelling as well.

"Headmaster, Madam Bones," Umbridge began in a triumphant voice, "As you can see, Mr. Potter here has a propensity for the dark arts. Wouldn't it be better to expel him before he can do any damage?"

Harry tried to ignore them, as it wasn't him, but he had to defend himself as Professor McGonagall started taking off house points.

"IT'S NOT ME!" he yelled hard enough for the entire hall to hear. He panted in the ensuing silence. He took a deep breath, "It's not me. I would never learn the dark arts; Voldemort used them to kill my parents."

"How can you be sure of this, Mr. Potter?" Madam Bones asked, "The Mr. Potter in the story also had his parents killed, yet he still wants to learn the dark arts."

"How do _you_ know that?" Harry countered, "We are only reading his life starting from age seventeen; his parents could very easily have died in a car crash or falling down the stairs."

Namach coughed lightly, "I'll have you know that the dark arts are only considered dark—and illegal—in Europe and a few other countries. Most of the Americas, Asia, and Africa don't separate magic into dark or light. Only the intent counts." Most countries charge people on crime, such as assault or murder, not what spells are used. He had checked the laws in this universe and they were the same as those in his.

"But the dark arts are evil." Harry said, confused.

Namach narrowed his eyes at him, "Why? Because they can kill and torture? A simple diffindo can do the same if you put enough power into the spell. On the other hand, the cruciatus can save the life of someone in psychic shock." He finished coldly. The vampire almost couldn't believe that Rahkesh used to be _this_.

"Psychic shock?" Harry was starting to get scared of the vampire, but he was a Gryffindor for a reason.

"A lethal condition that is usually caused by an over-use of accidental magic in children whose magical channels has yet to fully form," Namach went into teacher-mode, "Adults can also go into psychic shock if they use an excessive amount of magic with little rest." ' _Like a certain thunderbird._ ' "If used correctly in very precise doses, the cruciatus curse causes no pain and can save the life of a child. In Britain alone, an average of a dozen child die each year because saving them would mean a life sentence in prison for the healers."

Harry was shocked, "Is this true?" he asked Professor Dumbledore. The elderly headmaster gave a very slight nod. Harry fell silent as the students broke into contemplative murmurs. Somewhere in his mind, he registered some of the Slytherins doing the same. ' _They didn't know either._ ' Harry realized.

 **as well as defense, a place where he could learn what he needed to know to fight, and to live after the battles were over. The last was something he hadn't thought about until recently,**

"Really, Harry?" Cho leaned over from the Ravenclaw table.

"Y-yeah." Harry stuttered before his mind even registered the question. It didn't matter anyway; he honestly hadn't thought of his life beyond Voldemort.

 **but had started to consider it.**

"You really should, Harry." Hermione stated, "Don't let Voldemort dictate your life." Cho scowled at her.

 **There was a pile of books on the table in front of him. Harry opened the first and began to read while taking notes. Hours later he had completed his research.**

 **The Akren Mountain School of Magic**

Mountain? Harry silently mouthed to himself.

 **seemed a good choice. It was hidden away in the middle of Canada.**

"Canada?!" Hermione exclaimed, "But that's so far away!"

 **The creator, a recluse of a warlock who had not liked the way he was taught, nor the way other schools taught their students, had started his own with his two siblings around 400 A.D.**

Many students (and a few professors) choked, unable to believe any school _that_ old still existed.

 **They had taken a massive piece of Canada, which, at that time, had no humans and, literally, copied it.**

"Is that even possible?" Ron asked, numb with shock.

Namach scoffed, "Of course it is; such lands are actually very common. The Australians even managed to copy their whole continent." Planet Earth in its entirety had also been copied. Three time over.

By now, the occupants of the hall felt like nothing more could shock them.

 **The weather there mirrored the weather of the actual place, but anyone could walk right through the land, and not appear in the school.**

"That sounds much safer than Hogwarts." Blaise Zabini remarked. Harry couldn't help but agree with the Slytherin boy.

 **Indeed a road ran right across the property, but that road did not actually exist on the school grounds. An exact copy of everything had been made, and sealed off from everything. The place was impossible to plot and impossible to find. It was intended for all humanoids – which included vampires and werewolves.**

"What!" quite a few people shouted, "Who would want to learn with vampires and werewolves?"

Others were of the opinion that magical creatures were already too dangerous without learning how to use magic.

"I'll have you know that humans are a minority in Akren," Namach growled, "And all magical beings have a right to learn magic."

"But they're a danger!" One brave soul protested.

The vampire's silver gaze snapped to Zacharias Smith, who whimpered at the attention, "So are humans. Isn't this Dark Lord of yours human as well?"

"That's different!" Ron said. "There are good humans and bad humans; vampires are by nature evil."

Namach leaned forward and smiled darkly, "Should I show you just how evil vampires can be?" The professors, Ministry employees, DA members, and a few Slytherins went for their wands.

A clear voice stopped any further action that might have been taken, "I'm sure that this isn't the first time that you have been called evil, professor. And killing them now is a bit counter-productive to restoring this universe as soon as possible; they'll just be reformed without their memory of the past hour—then we'll have to start all over again."

All heads swerved towards the entrance of the Great Hall in shock, except Namach, who looked unfazed, "I generally tend to count it as a compliment, but I felt oblige to take offence on behalf of my species." He leaned back into his seat.

Standing beside one of the doors leading to the Great Hall was a tall young man, lithe with wiry muscles, moderately tanned skin, shoulder-length black hair, and blue eyes. Tonks gasped, having not sensed his presence at all, and Kingsley took a few steps back, eying him warily.

He walked forward, his movements unimpeded by the muggle clothes he was wearing and the numerous weapons he was carrying. He carried himself with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his own skin and had a smoothness to his movements that betrayed his status as a trained fighter—at least to the few that were observant enough.

He stopped in front of the head table, "Rahkesh Asmodeus." He introduced himself.

Dumbledore relaxed slightly; he had been afraid of who this visitor might have given that the first had been the infamous Tristan Namach. While this one didn't give him a sense of security, he did not recognize the name as someone he should be wary of.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." He greeted, "Would you like a chair?"

Rahkesh refused the offer politely, "Thank you, but I'm fine; the chapter's almost over anyway." He around the table and leaned against the wall behind Namach, giving him a view of the entire hall. "By the way," he began, "Concerning your previous argument, I am a human Akren student and I am quite comfortable learning with vampires and werewolves." An impersonal gaze roved over the hall, "Some of them are good friends of mine, so please keep your own opinions to yourself." No one had a response for him and the reading went on.

Rahkesh felt a gentle tap on his mind shields and lowered them enough to catch the telepathic message.

 _Blue eyes?_ Tristan sounded amused.

The younger man gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. _Didn't feel like dealing with all the questions and green felt too obvious._

 _They'll know sooner or later._

 _But I don't want to be the one who explains it. A book exists for a reason._

Tristan retreated from his student's mind with a chuckle.

 **Students, however, had to find the school themselves, which was why it had a small population, mostly people whose parents went there.**

"It's just like the whole pureblood supremacy thing." Hermione complained, "Only those whose parents are magical can attend the school.

Rahkesh raised an eyebrow, "I assure you that while it is rare for there to be a student whose parents did not attend Akren, it is not impossible. I am one such example myself—again. It entirely possible to find the school by yourself if you wanted to." Hermione flushed and sank back into her seat.

 **It taught just about everything, but had no problem stating plainly that it didn't believe in dark magic,**

"I still can't believe that dark magic is legal in some places." Ron muttered under his breath.

 **it taught everything as though it were all legal. If the students got into fights it was their job to finish them, teachers didn't intervene,**

"What kind of teachers are you?" Professor McGonagall asked indignantly.

"The kind who teaches their students to look after themselves." Namach replied. "We are not there to coddle them."

 **if you got injured you had to heal it yourself**

Quite a few teachers frowned in disapproval, but kept silent. A few of the Slytherins had perked up at the information that Akren taught dark magic, but when they heard that last piece of information, most of the pampered purebloods lost interest. Rahkesh took note of the few who seemed like they were still interested. While he knows that it's an alternate universe, he was assured that most things are still the same; other than a couple details, it's just like time-travelling. Of course, there's nothing that says Harry wouldn't make drastically different choices sometime in the future, but that's still to come.

 **or have a friend do it. There was a doctor**

"What's a doctor?" Someone asked.

"A muggle word for healer." Hermione replied.

Of to the side, Madam Pomfrey wondered what use they were if they weren't going to heal anyone.

 **but that was only a last resort.**

 **Rigorous beyond almost all other schools**

 _Almost?_ Tristan asked Rahkesh.

 _I know better now._ Yes, now he knows that Akren is the _most_ rigorous on earth—he didn't know about elven or demonic schools, or if they even _had_ schools.

 _The elves do, however, they aren't as rigorous as you'll expect. It does make sense; with their long lifespan, elves are more at a liberty to take things slowly._

Rahkesh automatically clamped down tighter on his occlumency shields, before pausing, and asking curiously. _Are you allowed to_ _tell me all this?_

 _Not really, but it won't make much of a difference at this point._ Tristan sounded completely unconcerned with the fact that he might offend the elves. Rahkesh just put his willingness to talk down as something else that has to do with his impending transformation.

 **it taught both magical and non-magical things.**

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust; he couldn't even contemplate anyone who had magic wanting to learn _muggle_ fighting. Mudbloods and blood-traitors as the sole exception.

 **Preparing students for life in the magical or muggle world. Schooling however didn't start until age fifteen, before that the students went elsewhere. Talent hunters for the school were supposed to go to all other schools and meet the students and test them.**

"Wait," Theodore Nott, one of the few showing real interest in Akren, interrupted, "I thought that you had to find the school yourself?"

"You do." Namach responded, "The talent hunters only give you an invitation, you still have to find the school yourself."

 **But on the list of schools the recruiters visited Hogwarts was absent, along with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.**

Rahkesh hadn't really thought about it before, but why Durmstrang? Don't they teach the dark arts as well?

Apparently, Hermione was of the same opinion, as she asked that particular question.

"Durmstrang only started teaching what Europe considers dark magic after Gellert Grindelwald took over the school." Namach explained, "Before then, Durmstrang was as 'light' oriented as the rest of the European schools. Durmstrang was removed from the list of schools visited three centuries ago and we have gotten no request for talent hunters since then."

 **According to the books, this was because most parents didn't want their children to even hear of such a harsh school, especially since it taught dark arts. Akren Mountain School claimed to have produced researchers who had created about half of the existing spells and potions, invented mind magics and real necromancy**

Apparently, while most were able to let the dark magic lie—at least for now—necromancy was a bit more than they can take.

"Necromancy!" Umbridge screeched, "I'll have you people arrested! As soon as we get out of here, aurors will be visiting this Akren!" Fudge nodded in agreement.

Dumbledore paled while Tristan looked amused, "Oh? I very much look forward to it." The response clearly unnerved the Ministry workers as they looked uneasily at each other. Rahkesh rolled his eyes; the British Ministry of Magic would be crushed instantly if they attacked Akren—that is, if they are able to find it in the first place.

"We must object to teaching Necromancy, Mr. Namach," Dumbledore said, "Necromancy is extremely dark and dangerous. It requires human sacrifices and—"

"Human sacrifices are not necessary." Rahkesh interrupted, "It all depends on whether you are using black or white necromancy."

Dumbledore relaxed slightly, "So can you only learn white necromancy at Akren?"

"No," Rahkesh replied, "You learn a bit of both in the first level Necromancy class, after which you decide which one you want to delve further in." Usually, detailed information was forbidden to non-Akren, but they were going to find out at some point anyway. Besides, it's not like they will remember anything once time resume its flow.

"By the way," Namach began with a smirk, "White necromancy is the one that uses human sacrifices." Many people got a good shock at that. White usually meant good and black meant evil; in this case, it was the opposite. "And it's no business of yours how we run our school." Namach reprimanded, "All of our students is there voluntarily and the school is not on British soil, so you have no say over anything."

 **along with more than half of the world's top sorcerer assassins. Alumni also included many of the richest magical people alive**

Here, Ron looked jealous.

 **and all of the most powerful magical vampires. (not all vampires could perform magic).**

Harry didn't even know that vampires could perform magic at all. Granted, he probably shouldn't have taken anything written in Lockhart's books seriously, but Quirrell also taught them that vampires couldn't use magic. Now, knowing what he does, Harry wonder if Voldemort wasn't feeding them false information on purpose, Lockhart, on the other hand, is just plain stupid. In hindsight, he really should have realized it earlier; Namach used magic, _wandless_ magic, yes, but still magic.

 **The courses seemed to be what Harry was looking for, and some of the things students could learn were: getting an animagus form, thread magic,**

There were a few confused murmurs, but no one spoke up. ' _Hopefully,'_ Rahkesh thought, ' _it is because they finally realized that everything will be explained in due time.'_ He realized that it is more likely because they were getting tired, and everything will be back to where it started tomorrow.

Rahkesh wondered how long this is going to take; he had hoped that they would be finished before any of the truly important stuff was revealed. While he knows that they wouldn't remember anything, the process would be just as unpleasant.

 **runic magic, blood magic,**

Many people frowned disapprovingly, they realized that there was nothing they could do and let it go. Besides, in their mind, nothing could be worse than necromancy.

 **magical animals, non-magical life forms, the muggle sciences like biology, physics, and chemistry, potions, alchemy (the most advanced type of potion making), spell creation, dueling, politics, non-magical fighting, horseback riding, star navigation, wand making, metal working, stone/gem magic, aura reading, divination,**

Professor McGonagall sniffed in disdain at the mention of her least favourite subject.

 **muggle society, languages (the school offered 37 different ones), and many other things.**

 **What interested Harry the most was that the teachers didn't take attendance, they depended upon the students to want to learn. Classes were divided by what level of a type of magic you were at, and age didn't matter, you could have fifteen years olds and eighteen year olds in the same class.**

"Wouldn't that put the fifteen years olds at a distinct disadvantage?" Hermione asked, "They wouldn't be able to keep up as well."

"Then they should have waited until they were older to attend Akren." Rahkesh replied. "Besides, it's separated by skill levels; if they aren't able to keep up, then they wouldn't be in that class to begin with."

 **Schooling was available up until age twenty-one, when you turned twenty-one you had to leave.**

"Who would _want_ to go to school for that long?" Ron asked.

Tristan and Rahkesh didn't even bother with an answer; it was obvious that some do, otherwise the school wouldn't be open.

 **Students ate when they wanted, slept when they wanted with no curfew, they each had their own room and you had to take a test to get into most classes. For transfiguration you took a test to see what level you would be placed at. However things that were not taught anywhere but the Akren Mountain School, like soul magic, had no test.**

 **And students were allowed to keep anything as a pet, Sygra, his serpent could come with him.**

 **It seems intimidating, but it also seemed ideal. Harry was seventeen; if he needed to he could stay at the school for years, he could leave whenever he wanted and return to his classes whenever, with few questions asked.**

"That really does sound ideal." Ron muttered to Harry.

"Except the 'you might die' part." Harry pointed out.

Ron paused, "Where did it say that?"

"It was implied." Harry responded.

 **He could go destroy Voldemort and all the pieces of his messed up soul**

At first, people didn't react, then Harry asked, "Soul pieces?" It broke the dam as everyone started talking at once.

Horcruxes aren't known by the general wizarding populace; only those that delve into soul magic would know of it. In Britain, where soul magic was considered 'black magic' which even most purebloods wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole, the number of wizards (human only) who knows can be counted on one hand.

However, while the students don't know about Horcruxes, they can still deduce that 'soul pieces' means soul magic, therefor black magic, and more specifically, a soul that's separated into pieces.

"What happens if someone's soul is split into pieces?" Harry asked Hermione. Unfortunately, this is another question that she doesn't have the answer to.

Everyone in the Great Hall posed more or less the same question, but Dumbledore kept his silence. On one hand, he was glad that his suspicion is finally confirmed, but on the other hand, he really wishes that it wasn't revealed to so many people. The students shouldn't come into contact with such dark magic. He sighed heavily and decided not to reveal what he knows.

Of to the side, Namach glanced at Rahkesh. "Should I tell them or should you?" He asked quietly.

Rahkesh pondered the question for a second before saying, "I will." He then addressed the entire hall, "He can't die." He added a sliver of magic to his voice and the short response cut through the noise like butter.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked.

"If someone's soul is separated into pieces, then they can't die until all the soul pieces, also known as Horcruxes, are destroyed." Rahkesh elaborated.

"That's how Voldemort survived 14 years ago!" Harry exclaimed in realization. Rahkesh nodded in confirmation.

Before Umbridge could begin another one of her 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back' speeches, Dumbledore's furious voice sounded.

"You shouldn't have told them." Dumbledore said tightly, his magic shimmering around him, almost suffocating those near him.

Rahkesh was completely unaffected, "Why not? They'll know sooner or later. Besides, isn't this a school? Schools are for learning."

"However," Dumbledore began, "It is not up to you what the students learn. Hogwarts will not teach the dark arts."

"It's not like I'm teaching them how to make a horcrux." Rahkesh said, almost amused by how angry Dumbledore is, "I've heard that you have a course called Defense Against the Dark Arts; how to you expect the students to defend themselves if you refuse to teach them what they are defending against?"

"That's just it," Harry couldn't resist cutting in, "we aren't learning how to defend ourselves."

"Mr. Potter! I am a certified Ministry official—" Insert the rest of the rant.

"Oh?" Rahkesh asked, paying Umbridge no mind. "Then what are you doing in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Reading!" Hermione exclaimed, "Which is good and all," she hastily added, "except the textbook's completely useless and we aren't allowed to practice spells."

Rahkesh hummed thoughtfully, "If the teacher's useless, then perhaps you can teach yourselves?" He provided.

"Unfortunately," Hermione sighed regretfully, "Not all students believe in the importance of defense. We can only help ourselves."

"Unfortunately." Rahkesh repeated.

"Back to the matter of horcruxes," Harry said, "how do you destroy them?"

This time, it was Namach who answered. "I will temporarily abide by the wishes of your headmaster and withhold that information. Beside, it usually depends on each individual horcrux; there isn't a universal method." Harry scowled, but still accepted the answer—for now.

 **But if he was going to go anywhere Harry knew he would need a suitable disguise,**

"Wait," Ron said, "If you're going to disguise yourself anyway, then why not stay in Hogwarts?"

"Too much of a chance that someone would recognize me, I guess." Harry mused. He wondered how this alternate him would disguise himself; the scar was a big give-away.

 **one that he could carry for years if need be.**

"And that's the end of the chapter." Dumbledore said and conjured a clock showing the estimated time, eleven fifteen, "Breakfast will, as usual, be from seven to nine. We will start reading the next chapter at nine o'clock sharp. Off to bed with you."

As Harry walked out of the hall with the rest of the Gryffindors, he saw Dumbledore talking with Namach and Asmodeus, presumably about their sleeping arrangements.

' _Well, this should be interesting._ ' Despite the fact that his head was swimming with all of the new information, Harry already couldn't wait for tomorrow.

Hermione seemed to be of the same opinion, except she also looked like she was going to go off on a research spree. Oh well, that was normal Hermione behaviour.

More importantly, how were they supposed to defeat Voldemort if he was essentially immortal?

Hopefully, the reading would tell them that as well, because Harry couldn't think of anything.

* * *

 **And that's the end of the first chapter. It makes me want to weep when I think of the fact that there's 34 more to go for ASCaL alone. And this is one of the shortest ones. The original chapter in ASCaL had around 3,700 words** — **I somehow stretched it to around 15,000 words.**

 **Next chapter won't have any reading, just discussions between various characters and a flashback on how Rahkesh and Namach ended up in this universe.**


	4. Interlude

**Chapter 1.5 — Interlude**

That night, no one slept well—except for Namach and Rahkesh, who didn't sleep at all. Namach because he didn't need to, and Rahkesh who thought that sleeping was currently a waste of time. (And because it was daytime where Rahkesh just came from.) He was glad that he had the foresight to bring potions that reduced his need for sleep. (He once more thanked the heavens for his earring-trunks.)

Unfortunately, none of the magic of the castle was working, so he couldn't use the Room of Requirements. Even the stairs and the portraits were frozen. Luckily, while many detours had to be taken, few parts of Hogwarts are inaccessible. Therefore, Rahkesh contented himself with the library—the Restricted Section, to be exact.

While it is true that Europe is heavily prejudiced against anything dark and the furthest thing from open-minded, Rahkesh has, over the past year and a half, come to the realization that most of the citizens in the rest of the world are just as prejudiced against the Europeans. Europeans created something, so it must be rubbish, right?

They tend to forget that Europe only became 'light' oriented sometime during the past few centuries. Before then, Europe had created many great wizards and witches, including, but not limited to Merlin Emrys, Morgana LeFay, Aesculapius, and the Founders. In fact, even just recently, Europe gave birth to Dark Lords Grindelwald and Voldemort. While their ideals were flawed, no one could deny that they were powerful.

Europe had many 'dark' books, dangerous books, hidden in caches. The Hogwarts Library's Restricted Section was one such treasure trove; apparently, the Founders made a rule that Hogwarts shall have a copy of every book its headmaster or headmistress can get their hand on, no matter the content. Nor are they allow to destroy any books already in the library. Therefore, to prevent students from reading 'dark' books, the headmaster a few generations back created the Restricted Section. Some books, even Akren didn't have—mostly because they were written by Europeans.

Rahkesh remembered spotting a few books about demons the last time he was in the Restricted Section back when he was still Harry Potter. At the time, other than being a distraction from his dull History of Magic homework, he hadn't had much interest in demons, therefore he only read a section from one book before turning back to his homework. (He would have continued, except the homework was due for the very next day.)

Now, more information about demons could be the difference between life and death.

As Rahkesh pillaged books from the shelf, he realized that he was technically stealing. Then he shrugged to himself, _'Well, it's not like they'll ever read them. Besides, I'm only borrowing; I'll return the books after I'm finished with them.'_

As he walked back to his temporary room, his mind drifted back to the reason why he's here.

 _A universe ago…_

 _Rahkesh was contemplating how to relay Nicodemus's message to his friends when he suddenly received a mental summon from Namach._

 _His first thought was:_ 'A lot of people seems to be contacting me mentally today.' _then_ 'Shouldn't he be at the battlefront or getting ready to go the Conclave?' _Rahkesh wondered,_ 'How does he have time to be contacting me?'

 _"_ _Namach?" Daray asked._

 _Rahkesh nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, he wants to see me. I'll tell you guys when I get back." His curiosity drove him to walk slightly faster than he would have normally._

 _The door leading to Namach's chamber was closed, but they opened automatically as soon as he approached. He made to step inside, but stopped short as he caught sight of the two people already inside the room._

 _One was, of course, Namach, but the second_ person _(although whether that form of address is accurate is debatable) gave Rahkesh a feeling of wrongness. It wasn't his appearance, despite the fact that he was twice the size of a normal being, taller than even Hagrid. It wasn't his magic—actually, Rahkesh couldn't feel his magic at all—he just felt like something was missing, something important. He just couldn't figure out what._

 _He hid his insecurity and resumed walking, the door closing behind him. His whole thought process only took a split second and neither of the two occupants noticed anything wrong. Namach gestured for him to sit on the couch._

 _The vampire didn't immediately began speaking, and Rahkesh used the opportunity to study not-giant (because actual giants are much larger). Other than his size, his actual appearance was nothing noteworthy. He had hair, blue eyes, and was covered with blood-metal armor. He looked exactly like a normal human, however, Rahkesh couldn't get rid of his uneasy feeling._

 _"Have you heard of Titans?" Namach finally spoke._

 _Titans? "I don't think so." Rahkesh responded slowly, "The only Titans I've heard of are the ones in Greek Mythology."_

 _"You wouldn't have," Namach sighed, "Few people have ever met them, and those that have usually know to keep their mouth shut. You already know about the existence of alternate dimensions, well, Titans are beings that's that govern different realities. They mostly ensure that realities are kept safe and secure, and not destroyed unnaturally."_

 _Rahkesh nodded in understanding, and then asked, "Not that it isn't interesting, but why am I here. Like you said, few people ever meet Titans."_

 _The Titan spoke, "In one of the alternate universes, a powerful spell was cast incorrectly and consequently, their universe was destroyed."_

 _"Excuse me?" Rahkesh blinked, having trouble processing the newly revealed information._

 _Namach shrugged and Rahkesh swore that he could detect a hint of helplessness in the action, "Just like he said; a universe was destroyed by a miscast spell."_

 _"Forgive me, sir," Rahkesh began, "If I'm slightly skeptical about the fact that one spell, not matter how powerful it is, or how badly it was butchered, can destroy an entire_ universe _."_

 _"Only slightly?' Namach quirked a smile, "I'm a having a hard time believing it myself," he offered, "but one thing that you need to know about Titans are that they are literally incapable of lying. Although they are a master at twisting words and omitting information." Here, he stared at pointedly at the Titan._

 _"Well, there were several other factors involved," the Titan amended his previous statement, "but the spell was the catalyst. One of our jobs is to record history_ accurately _, and with the demon invasion, many of us are otherwise occupied, so we noticed this problem later than we should have. Plus, the toad woman performed the spell exactly when the fabric between dimensions was at its thinnest; your universe just happened to be the closest. Usually, a spectacular explosion would have been the only thing that happened." Rahkesh has a sinking feeling as the Titan mention a 'toad woman'. He can't mean Umbridge, can he?_

 _Namach narrowed his eyes, "What aren't you telling us?" He demanded._

 _"There may or may not be a third party involved," the Titan (and when the hell is this guy going to give a name? It's like that Russian interrogator all over again) admitted, "we aren't quite sure. But there isn't anything we can do about it."_

 _"That aside," Rahkesh interjected, "why am_ I _here? I was barely aware of the existence of alternate universes before now; it doesn't sound like something I can help with." It may or may not have anything to do with Umbridge, but the fact that he can't help in anyway is the complete and utter truth._

 _"On the contrary, your help is very much necessary." Rahkesh stared at the Titan incredulously._

 _"The spell was designed to read the life story of an alternate of the targeted person," the Titan explained, "And the person the spell was cast on just happened to be an alternate Harry Potter."_

 _Rahkesh stiffened and eyed the Titan warily._

 _"Your story was written by Miranda_ — _"_

 _"_ _Someone wrote a book about my life?' Rahkesh hissed, lightning starting to spark between his fingers._

 _"Calm down, Thunder." Namach said sharply, "They have the life story of everyone, even mine or Ferraidar's, but they aren't allowed to reveal their information without our permission, nor are they permitted to read it without our presence. In fact, Titans are forbidden from interacting with people from any universe unless something that can cause a reality to collapse happens."_

 _Rahkesh was still frowning unhappily, but forcefully calmed himself down. "You are here to ask for my permission." Rahkesh said coldly; it wasn't a question. It is the only reasonable explaination for why he is here._

 _"Yes."_

 _"Absolutely not." Rahkesh refused, "Ask someone else." What sane person would allow a bunch of complete strangers to read their life? "If you haven't noticed, there's a war going on."_

 _"You're the only one I can ask." The Titan said, starting to look slightly desperate, "It isn't easy to transport people to and from destroyed realities, and like I said, this dimension was the closest at the moment of destruction. They wouldn't have to read much, just enough to accurately distinguish the difference between realities, and for us to reconstruct their dimension. It wouldn't affect the war; no time will pass here. A few people from this reality will also have to witness the reading, but," he hastily continued as Rahkesh was about to interrupt, "the audience's memories will also be erased once their reality is restored."_

 _Rahkesh contemplate his options, then sighed and asked, "How many people will be there?" That counted more or less as an agreement and the Titan relaxed._

 _"The entirety of Hogwarts 1995-96, Cornelius Fudge, Nymphadora Tonks, Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and two vampire 'reporters'." Rahkesh seriously began to reconsider his approval, "Others will be added and removed as the restoration progresses. A few people from this reality will also need to be there, but their memories will also be erased, unless you want them to remember." The Titans added, "The reading will start where the divergence occur, after your sixth year at Hogwarts."_

 _"Am I allowed to choose the people from this universe?" Rahkesh asked._

 _"Yes, however, I would suggest those that are either dead in the other universe, or is exclusive to your life as 'Rahkesh', like Tristan." He nodded towards said vampire, who's been keeping silent, "His presence would hasten the process exponentially. Although..." He trailed off, "I seriously doubt our ability to erase_ his _memories. We could try." He offered._

 _Rahkesh glanced at Namach, conflicted. The ancient probably knows more about him than any other person dead or alive (and even Rahkesh himself in some aspects), but does he really want him to know even more? Granted, if the book starts at the end of his sixth year, then it probably doesn't contain anything he doesn't know, still..._

 _He made a split second decision and said, "Alright." At least Rahkesh knows that Namach means him no harm, and he'll also be there if the elves search through his memories. The sooner they finish, the sooner they can get back to what's really important. "Now, about the others..."_

~o0o~

It was a simple mission from the Master of London; gather more information of the Ministry of Magic and infiltrate Hogwarts. Who knew that _this_ would happen? And for Lord Namach to be here as well... even if he is from an alternate dimension. Curse the British wizards for being idiots.

Hopefully, things will get back to normal soon, because destroyed dimensions are a bit crazy, even for vampires.

~o0o~

Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Theodore Nott were the outcasts of Slytherin. All for different reasons, but outcasts none the less.

Theodore 'call me Theo' Nott is—or rather was—the son of Thomas Nott, a known and convicted Death Eater. While this would usually earn him a moderately good standing in Slytherin, among the Junior Death Eaters, Theo regularly and semi-publicly denounced his father.

Theo blamed his father. Not for joining the dark lord or becoming a criminal, but taking everything and leaving his family nothing, then getting himself arrested. As the former Lord Nott, he emptied the Nott vault supplying funds for 'the cause'. When his mother got sick after his sixth birthday, they (Theo and his uncle Thaddeus) didn't have the money to pay for the required treatment, consequently leading to her death. Therefore it was only natural for him to hold a certain amount of hatred for his father and the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Daphne Greengrass is a pure-blood witch from a neutral family, well known for never taking a side in dark/light conflicts. In the years past, most dark and light families respected their decision, however, in the most recent war, the dark lord, Voldemort dealt only death to those that refused to serve him. There was no neutral ground with Voldemort; you were either with or against him.

He killed both of Daphne's fraternal grandparents, and her father, then fresh out of Hogwarts, fled to America. It was there that Dorian Greengrass met his future wife and Daphne's mother. After the war, Dorian returned to England and Melody faithfully followed. Afterwards, while they were still counted as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Greengrass family was ostracized for bringing an outsider in.

The Zabini family isn't a British pure-blood family; they are in fact Italian. As the Headquarters of the Catholic Church, Italy was no-man's land to the European wizards. Most wizarding families have long since left Italy—the Zabini family is the _only_ pure-blood family left in the country. Although that's not to say that there aren't any other witches and wizards. Muggleborn children are often found by the church and raised inside Vatican City, taught that their special abilities are 'Holy powers granted by God'. Those that aren't _somehow_ ends up in the Italian Mafia.

It isn't obvious where Blaise came from, and the majority of the school doesn't know it, but most of the Slytherins are well connected enough to find out where exactly the Zabini family is located. And apparently, anyone who comes from Italy carries the taint of Christianity.

The three of them weren't idiots and knew that Potter and Dumbledore are telling the truth about Voldemort's return. However, there isn't really anything that they can do, and had mostly resigned themselves to either fleeing the country or being forced into the Dark Lord's service. Except…

"Have either of you head of Akren before?" Theodore asked.

Daphne shook her head, "Only whispers. I was raised in Britain, remember?"

"No." Blaise answered, "It does sound tempting, though. We could go there to escape the Dark Lord's reach and train to get stronger. Although it does sound dangerous, it's nothing we won't face once we have graduated."

"There's one major problem with that plan: our families." Theodore pointed out.

"True." Blaise sighed, "My mother can take care of herself, but your families…"

"There's another option." Daphne offered hesitantly, "Harry Potter." Usually, none of them would show so much vulnerability, but there's only the three of them here, and they're all the best of friends.

"Daphne, that's crazy." Theodore interjected. "While the Potter we heard about does sound better than the one we know, however, that isn't our Potter."

"It does prove that he has the potential." Daphne said, "Besides, I'm not saying we have to swear our allegiance right now. We're only at the first chapter, there is still a lot more to be revealed, and we have time to observe Potter."

"You really think he defeat the Dark Lord?" Blaise asked skeptically.

"I don't know. "Daphne admitted, "That's why we should keep observing." The two boys gave their agreements and the matter was concluded.

~o0o~

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived at the Great Hall at quarter to nine—mostly due to Ron over-sleeping. By that time, the hall was already full, but Harry noticed immediately that Namach and Asmodeus were still absent.

Just as the three were starting to debate their lack of presence, they heard a light coughing sound behind them, followed by "Would you mind moving out of the way? The three of you are blocking the entrance." Harry whirled about, coming face-to-face (or rather face-to-neck, because he's almost a head shorter) with Asmodeus.

"Sorry." Hermione apologized, as she moved out of the way. Harry and Ron belatedly mirrored her apology. Harry couldn't help but think of how they hadn't heard him approach; if Asmodeus was a Death Eater, then he would be dead already.

He hadn't thought about it yesterday, but the name Rahkesh Asmodeus sounded familiar, as if he had heard it from somewhere. Harry just couldn't remember where.

"Do you know me?" Harry blurted out as Asmodeus made to walk pass him. "Well, the other me." He corrected. He squirmed uncomfortably as Asmodeus gazed at him; his eyes were surprisingly piercing, coming from someone who couldn't be more than three years older than him. What made Harry even more uncomfortable was how impersonal it was. People have looked at him with everything from love, to respect, to disgust to hatred, but never has anyone made him like he was completely inconsequential. Even to the Dursleys, who hated him, he meant at least _something_.

Rahkesh measured Harry, wondering how he should answer. He could completely ignore the question and go on his merry way, except… he does have something to say to Harry Potter. This is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. "Yes I do."

"Then—" Harry was cut off.

"I don't like you." Rahkesh continued bluntly. It was the honest truth; to him Harry Potter was a weak, naïve, gullible, and overly sentimental child. Shedding the skin of Harry Potter and becoming Rahkesh Asmodeus was probably the best decision he had ever made. He doesn't know where he'll be right now, if he had continued on as the Boy-Who-Lived, probably dead and lying in a ditch somewhere.

"Mind moving out of the way?" What a sense of déjà vu.

"Good morning, Professor." Asmodeus greeted, whilst stepping into the hall. As the two walked towards the head table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, hurried towards the Gryffindor table. As Ron stuffed his face, the other two talked about what just happened, neither of them feeling much of an appetite.

"Are we certain that Asmodeus is human? Because no human can be so unnerving." Harry asked.

"Well," Hermione shrugged, "he looks human, and he also claimed to be human."

"Maybe he's another vampire." Harry suggested.

"No," Hermione said, pointing at the head table, "vampires can't eat solid food." Indeed, Asmodeus was eating breakfast.

"Are you sure that vampires can't eat food? I mean, we were taught in DADA that they are an inferior species, unable to use magic. But that Namach can use _wandless_ magic, something even _Dumbledore_ has difficulty with."

Hermione frowned, "I don't think Namach's a normal vampire; did you see the headmaster's reaction to him? He looked almost frightened. We need to do some—"

"—research." Harry and Ron chorused.

"What I'm more worried about," Ron said, "is why Asmodeus said he doesn't like Harry. Maybe he's another Malfoy."

"Hopefully not." Hermione sighed.

"Yeah," Harry said, "we have enough problems with just one."

At that moment, Dumbledore stood up and clapped his hands. Everything on the tables disappeared. "We will now start the reading the second chapter." He announced.

* * *

 **I hope no one hates me for this, but I'm trying not to make all Europeans idiots, and everyone else perfect. I'm also inserting minor plots and character interactions into the story.**

 **I wanted to get an opinion on Ron; should he slowly get better as the story progresses, or should he get worse? Personally, I'm leaning towards the former. At this point in time, I don't think that Ron has that many reasons to hate the dark, other than Ginny's possession. Arthur wasn't attacked by Nagini, he hasn't been to the DoM yet, Hogwarts has yet to be invaded, Dumbledore is still alive, and Bill wasn't almost killed by Greyback.**

 **I hope the characters aren't too OOC.**

 **I want an opinion on who else should come to the reading. I have a list, but opinions won't hurt.**

 **One last thing: yes, I will be removing this is Miranda Flairgold disapproves. This universe is hers, after all. Although currently, she's MIA, if she comes back (and hopefully she does), I will ask for permission. If she says no, then this story will be deleted. To be honest, if that happens, I probably won't even be very upset—I'll be too overjoyed at the series resuming.**


End file.
